M 


r 


CARNEGIE  LIBRARY 

STATE  NORMAL  SCHOOL 

ATHENS.        -        GEORGIA 


CLASS 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


L  CisC/i, 


_ 


A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS, 


FOR    THE 


HOME  AND  THE  HEART, 


GATHERED  BY  THE  AUTHOR  AT  LEISURE  HOURS. 


From  Nature's  gorgeous  expanse  Her  glowing  deeps 
Around  him.  Below  him, 

Her  shining  worlds  And  from  her  whispering  galleries 
Above  him,  Within  him. 


BY 

„     REV.   A.    MEANS,    D.   D.,   LL.D. 

EMORY  COLLEGE,  OXFORD,  GA.,  1878. 


NEW    YORK: 

E.  J.  HALE  &  SON,  PUBLISHERS, 

MURRAY  STREET. 

1878. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1878, 

BY  REV.  A.  MEANS,  D.  D.,  LL.  D., 
In  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


STEREOTYPED  AND    PRINTED 

BY  THE 

NATIONAL  PRINTING  CO., 

13  CHAMBERS  STREET. 

NEW  YORK. 


DEDICATION. 


PROMPTED  BY  A  LONG-STANDING  PERSONAL  ATTACHMENT, 

AND  BY 

VIVID  MEMORIES  OP  THE  "AULD  LANG  SYNE;" 
AS  WELL  AS  BY  A  HIGH  ESTIMATE  OF 

THE  MAN,  THE  MINISTEE,  and  THE  BISHOP, 

THIS  LITTLE  VOLUME  IS 
RESPECTFULLY  DEDICATED  BY  THE  AUTHOR, 

TO  THE 

REV.    GEORGE     F.    PIERCE,    D.D.,    LLD., 

BISHOP  OF  THE  METHODIST  EPISCOPAL  CHURCH  SOUTH. 


1125450 


THESE  poetic  effusions  are  the  products  of  leisure  hours,  gained, 
through  many  years  past,  from  the  pursuit  of  heavier  and  more  im 
perative  duties,  and  are  now  respectfully  and  deferentially  submitted 
to  the  public,  at  the  repeated  requests  of  many  friends.  Among  them 
will  be  found  Epic,  Lyric,  and  Elegiac  Poems,  with  Sacred  Melodies, 
Sunday  School  Odes,  and  a  few  compositions,  designed,  •when  written, 
as  Ministerial  Solos,  for  public  and  special  occasions,  and  at  a  time 
•when  this  element  of  public  "worship  was  more  frequently  employed 
than  at  the  present  day. 

It  will  bo  seen  that  the  author  has  not  thought  it  advisable  to  arrange 
and  classify  these  different  styles  of  poetic  composition  under  the 
several  heads  to  which  they  may  technically  belong,  but  lias  largely 
distributed  them  throughout  the  volume,  as  likely  to  afford  the  conse 
cutive  reader  a  more  agreeable  variety  than  lie  might  expect  to  enjoy 
by  a  methodical  aggroupment  of  each  different  species  of  poetry.  They 
are  thus  presented,  then,  with  the  sincere  wish  and  ardent  hope,  that 
amid  the  diversity  of  themes  which  they  embrace,  they  may,  at  least 
in  some  slight  degree,  contribute  to  please,  cheer,  and  elevate  some 
minds,  and  excite  pure  and  sublime  emotions  in  some  hearts. 

In  conclusion :  as  the  writer  has,  from  boyhood,  ever  honored  and 
esteemed  the  sex  of  his  mother,  ho  may  be  allowed  to  add,  that  he  has 
sought  to  throw  a  sanctity  and  loveliness  around  the  character  of 
woman— to  spring  within  her  new  aspirations  for  a  still  nobler  position 
in  society  upon  earth,  and  tacharm  her  with  the  claims  and  awards 
of  heaven. 

Such  as  the  contents  of  this  volume  are,  however,  they  are  humbly 
consecrated  to  the  cause  of  God  and  humanity. 


THE  author  of  this  volume  of  poems  was  born  in  Statesvillo,  North 
Carolina,  February  6th,  1801.  From  early  manhood  to  this  day,  he  has 
been  among  the  busiest  and  best  workers  of  his  time.  He  became  a 
student  of  necessity ;  for  from  early  boyhood  ho  "  hungered  and  thirst 
ed  "  after  truth.  Thorough  elemental  training  laid  a  good  foundation 
for  the  noble  superstructure  of  varied  and  useful  learning  which  even 
now,  while  "  the  almond  tree  flourishes,"  employs  his  energies ;  for  such 
a  man,  though  realizing  that  he  can  never  finish  in  this  world  the 
work  God  gives  him  to  do,  must  keep  ever  in  his  heart  that  word  of 
the  Master :  "  Occupy  till  I  come." 

In  medicine,  science,  literature,  and  theology,  our  honored  friend 
has  been,  without  intermission  of  zeal,  an  enthusiastic,  painstaking 
student.  As  physician,  scientist,  writer,  and  preacher,  lie  holds  an 
honorable  place  among  his  contemporaries.  For  nearly  half  a  centu 
ry  ho  has  been  identified  with  the  great  interests  of  education.  Thou 
sands  throughout  the  South  still  live  to  bless  him  for  the  lessons  learn 
ed  in  his  class  and  lecture  rooms. 

The  vauutings  of  atheistic  science  bring  no  alarms  to  his  stead 
fast  heart.  Ho  has  learned,  for  himself,  that  "  God  in  nature  and  God 
in  revelation  arc  one."  He  hails  with  delight  all  real  discoveries  in 
science,  and  claims  thorn  as  trophies  for  his  King  and  Saviour.  He 
believes,  with  great-hearted  Milton,  that  "  Truth,  in  some  age  or  other, 
will  find  her  witness,  and  shall  be  justified  at  last  by  her  own  chil 
dren." 

Intimate  knowledge  of  our  author  naturally  reminds  one  of  Lord 
Bacon's  wise  saying :  "  It  is  true  that  a  little  philosophy  inclineth 
man's  mind  to  atheism,  but  depth  in  philosophy  bringeth  men's  miuds 
about  to  religion:  for  while  the  mind  of  man  looketh  upon  second 
causes  scattered,  it  may  sometimes  rest  in  them,  and  go  no  farther; 
but  when  it  beholdeth  the  chain  of  them,  confederate  and  linked  to 
gether,  it  must  needs  fly  to  Providence  and  Deity." 

A  man  who  studies  God  and  nature  with  a  heart  so  susceptible 
and  a  spirit  so  reverent,  must  sometimes  find  himself  "  soaring  in  the 


viii  INTRODUCTION. 

high  regions  of  his  fancy,  -with  his  garland  and  singing  robes  about 
him."  In  the  world  around  him  and  in  the  heavens  above  him  ho 
must  see  what  others  do  not  see,  and  hear  what  others  do  not  hear, 
being  among  those  favored  ones 

''  Who  carry  music  in  their  heart 
Through  dusky  lane  and  wrangling  mart; 
Plying  their  daily  task  with  busier  feet, 
Because  their  secret  souls  a,  holier  strain  repeat." 

Very  truly  do  the  wise  Germans  say :  "  In  this  world  the  eyo  sees 
what  it  brings  capacity  for  seeing."  A  thousand  times,  as  these 
poems  are  witness,  our  friend  has  felt  in  his  heart  of  hearts  all  that 
Coleridge  sings  in  his  "  Morning  Hymn  in  the  Vale  of  Chamouni :" 

"  Awake,  my  soul !    Kot  only  passive  praise 
Thou  owest !    Not  alone  these  swelling  tears, 
Mute  thanks  and  secret  ecstasy !    Awake, 
Voice  of  sweet  song !    Awake,  my  heart,  awake ! 
Green  vales  and  icy  cliffs,  join  in  my  hymn  !  " 

In  this  dainty  little  volume  are  many  songs  of  the  affections.  Our 
author  has  modestly  named  them  "A  Cluster  of  Poems  for  the  Home 
and  the  Heart."  And  they  are  well  named,  since  he  is  one  of  the 
happy  men  who  can  sing  with  Croly  of  "  Domestic  Love :" 

"  Oh  love  of  loves !  to  thy  white  hand  is  given 

Of  earthly  happiness  the  golden  key ; 
Thine  are  the  joyous  hours  of  winter's  even, 

When  the  babes  cling  around  their  father's  knee, 
And  thine  the  voice  that  on  the  midnight  sea, 

Meets  the  rude  mariner  with  thoughts  of  home, 
Peopling  the  gloom  with  all  he  longs  to  see." 

This  volume  has  been  demanded  of  its  author  by  a  host  of  friends, 
and  most  earnestly  by  his  old  students.  There  are  thousands,  in  his 
own  section,  many  in  the  Northern  and  Western  States  of  our  great 
Union,  and  some  across  the  water,  who  will  be  glad  to  see  and  to  en 
joy  this  "  Cluster  of  Poems  for  the  Home  and  the  Heart."  And  they 
may  welcome  it  without  fear;  for  there  is  not  one  poisonous  flower  in 
the  cluster.  There  is  not  a  lino  in  this  book  that  will  bring  a  shadow 
to  any  home,  a  blush  to  any  cheek,  a  snare  to  any  heart. 

ATTICUS  G.  HAYGOOD. 
EMOKY  COLLEGE, 
OXFORD,  GA.,  Dec.  25, 1877. 


CONTENTS. 


EMI 

"All  Shall  be  Well,"      ......      65 

An  Epitlialamium,  ...  .  .  210 

An  Infant's  Flight  to  Heaven,  .  .  .  .167 

Apostrophe  to  an  Album,  .  .  .  .145 

Apostrophe  to  the  Stone  Mountain,  An,  .  .  .26 

Appendix,  .  ....  214 

Atlanta  Crushed  and  Crowned,  .  .  .  .60 

Balloon's  Ascension,  The,  ....  81 

Beauty  Enhanced  by  Piety,      .  .  .  .  .168 

Camp-meeting  Hymn,          .  ....  200 

Camp-meeting  Song,      .  .  .  .  .  .208 

Capers,  Little  Charles  Meminger,  Elegy  on,  .  .  102 

Chamouni,  Vale  of,  .  .  .  .  .11 

Christian  Sabbath,  The,      .....  36 

Conviction  and  Conversion  Contrasted,  .  .  .128 

Cupboard,  The  Little  Pine,  &c.,      ....  151 

Deluge,  The  Noachian,  .  .  .  .  .83 

Emory  and  Oxford  Apostrophized,  .  .  .  144 

Farewell  and  the  Greeting,  The,  ....     157 

Farewell  Souvenir,  A,         .  .  •  .  .133 

Friendship's  Memorial,  .....     174 

Ffown  of  God,  The,  .....  48 

Girlhood  Expanded  to  Womanhood,      .  .  .  .182 

Glacier  in  the  Heart,  A,  .  .  .  .  149 

Gloom  aud  Glory,         .  .  .  .  .  .128 

Golden  Girdle,  The,  .....  177 

Golden  Wedding,  The,  .  .  .  .  .210 

Grandeur  of  Nature  and  the  Glory  of  Grace,  Contrasted,   .  112 

Itinerant  Minister's  Wife,  To  an,  .  .  .  .166 

Ladies'  Welcome,  The,        .....  119 

"Little  Ones,  My  Little  Ones,"  .  .  .  .193 

"  Live  for  the  Skies,"          .....  200 

Madrigal,  A,  .  .  ....     181 

Masonic  Ode,  A,       ......  78 

Means,  Miss  Sallie  L.,  Sketch  of  the  late,          .  .  .135 

Messiah's  Coming  Reign,    .  ....  188 


x  CONTENTS. 

PASS 
Millennium,  A  Vision  of  the,    .  ...       16 

Minister's  Fare-well,  The,    . 

Morning  in  May,  A,       .  .  .  •  •  .109 

Mount  of  Holiness,  The,     . 

Now  Year's  Reflections— 1866— A,  .  .  .110 

Ode  to  the  Opening  of  the  Now  Year,  1300, 

Parental  Affection,         .  .  .  •  •  .206 

rhases  of  Woman,  The, 

Pine  Cupboard,  The  Little,  &c.,  •      151 

Pledge  of  Affection,  A,  *--.••-. 

Poetic  Offering,  A,  .  .  •  •  .140 

Poetic  Paraphrase  of  the  Forty-eighth  Psalm, 

Purity  Rewarded,          ....  .77 

Rainbow  Dream,  The, 

Reminiscence  (for  his  Wife)  A,  ...       80 

Sabbath,  The  Christian,      ...  36 

Sacred  Localities  in  Palestine,  .  • 

Sainford,  T.  P.,  A  Tribute  to  the  memory  of, 

Silent  Power  of  Woman,  The, 

Song-bird  Uncaged,  The,     . 

Souvenir,  A  Farewell,  .     ,        . 

Souvenir  of  Love,  A,  • 

Sparkling  Beauty  Transient, 

"  Sunday-school,  Our  Sunday-school," 

Supplement  to  "  The  War," 

The  Sear  Leaf,         ...... 

The  Sound  of  the  Gospel  is  Passing  Away, 

The  Train, 

The  War,  and  one  of  its  Noble  Victims, 

To  the  Author's  Eldest  Daughter, 

Tribute  of  Gratitude,  A,  ..... 

Tribute  to  the  Heroic  Dead,  .... 

Triumphant  Wife  and  Mother,  A,  .... 

Triumph  of  a  Lofty  Faith  in  Woman,  The, 

Triumph  of  Joseph,  .  .  .  ._.--< 

Vision  of  the  Millennium,  A,  .... 

Vale  of  Chamouni,  in  the  Swiss  Alps, 

Wedding  Ring,  The,  .... 

Woman  in  Paradise,  and  Woman  in  Christendom, 
Woman,  Silent  Power  of,  .... 

Woman,  Triumph  of  a  Lofty  Faith  in, 
World  Without,  and  the  World  Within,  The, 
Young  Student's  Cloudless  Close  of  Life,  The, 
Young  Womanhood  Ripe  for  Heaven, 


A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


IN  THE   SWISS  ALPS. 


WRITTEN   AFTER   WITNESSING  THE   SUBLIME    SCENES  OP    THAT 
MOUNTAIN  REGION. 


SWEET  Vale  of  Chamouni  I  the  "  Pride  of  the  Moun 
tains," 

Thou  bloomest  in  beauty,  high  up  in  the  skies ; 
Where  the  roar  of  bright  cascades  from  wild,  gushing 

fountains, 
A  torrent  of  music  forever  supplies. 

The  Aiguille  de  Rouges  rise  in  grandeur  around  thee, 
Encinctur'd  with  jasper  and  crested  with  snow ; 

To  loom  o'er  the  nestling  retreat  where  I  found  thee, 
And  cast  their  deep  shadow  o'er  gorges  below. 


A  CLUSTEX  OF  POEMS. 


High,  high  to  the  eastward,  to  shut  out  the  morning, 
The  bold  Montauvert  rears  its  turreted  steeps  j 

The  ice-wreaths  of  winter  their  summits  adorning, 
Far  aloft  from  the  crags  whence  the  avalanche 
leaps. 

TJpheav'd  from  thy  plain,  and  defying  the  ages  — 

His  time-honor'd  diadem  bare  to  the  sky  ; 
His  body-guards  round  him,  where    bleak  winter 

rages  — 

The  "  Monarch  of  Mountains,"  MONT  BLANC,  meets 
the  eye. 

Great  Castle  of  Nature  !    Thy  pinnacles  tower 
Columnar  and  grand,  and  transpiercing  the  clouds, 

Where  Jupiter  Toiiaus  ne'er  hazards  his  power, 
But  stoops  to  the  zone  which  his  storm-cloud  en 
shrouds. 

Hark  !  hark  !  how  it  thunders  !  —  the  mountains  are 

quaking  ! 

The  tread  of  an  avalanche  sounds  on  the  gale  ! 
Vast  bowlders  are  bounding!  the  forest  is  break 

ing! 
Whole  hamlets  and  herds  are  entomb'd  in  the  vale  ! 


THE  VALE  OF  CHAMOUNL  13 

Great  God !  when  the  Alpine  artill'ry's  unlimber'd, 
And   cloud-mounted   caissons  supply  the  death- 
balls  j 

When  the  cannonade  rolls  over  ice-fields,  untimber'd, 
Woe !  woe  to  the  homes  where  the  thunder-shock 
falls! 

****** 
Yonder — stretching  in  gelid  and  motionless  splendor, 
Through  a  half  hundred  miles — lies  the  cold  Mer 

de  Glace ; 

For  deep  mountain  gorges  their  basins  surrender, 
To  cradle  for  ages  the  huge  frozen  mass. 

With  margins  of  azure,  its  yawning  crevasses 
Pierce    down  fifty  fathoms  —  chill,  gloomy,  and 
dread, 

As  if  cleft  by  the  lightnings,  to  open  the  passes 
To  Pluto's  dark  caves,  and  their  shadowy  dead. 

Fronting  far  to  the  west,  and  in  splendent  illusion, 
The  Glacier  du  Bois  lifts  its  arch  of  sea-green ; 

Whence  the  Arviron  leaps  from  its  icy  seclusion,* 
Uncavern'd  and  free,  to  give  life  to  the  scene. 

*  A  subterraneous  stream  which  gushes  out  from  the  western  base 
of  the  glacier. 


14  A    CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

The  Arve,  rushing  by,  claims  the  fugitive  stranger, 
And  bursts  every  barrier,  to  blend  with  the  Rhone ; 

While  dark  frowning  cliffs  overhang  it  with  danger, 
Nor  heed  its  wild  wail  through  its  channels  of 
stone. 

Lash'd  on  by  the  Furies  that  rul'd  at  its  fountains, 
In  headlong  persistence — defiant  of  foes — 

It  clears  rocky  ledges,  tears  open  the  mountains, 
And  roars  with  the  tempest,  the  wilder  it  blows. 

But  the  Ehone  is  in  sight!  and  these  ostracised 
daughters — ' 

A  blonde  and  brunette,  in  discordant  embrace* — 
Soon  close  their  career  in  Geneva's  blue  waters, 

Their  rest  to  secure,  and  their  stains  to  efface.! 

Here,  plung'd  and  absterg'd  by  their  azure  lavation, 
In  beauty  and  loveliness  now  they  agree  j 

And  silently  seeking  a  new  destination, 
Their  sweet  limpid  waters  glide  on  to  the  sea. 

Bright  type  of  the  soul  as  it  enters  probation  ! 
Polluted  and  restless  through  life  to  be  driv'n, 

*  Appendix  A.  t  Appendix  B. 


THE  VALE  OF  CHAMOUNI,  15 

Until,  wasli'd  in  the  lavcr  of  regeneration, 
Its  purified  essence  flows  smoothly  to  heav'n. 

I  knew,  fair  Ghamouni !  that  rock-ramparts  bound 

thee, 

And  Titans,  ice-thron?d,  have  conspir'd  to  destroy ; 
But  Phoebus  shall  smite  them — green  glories  sur 
round  thee — 

And  spring-time  and  summer  then  crown  thee 
with  joy. 

Farewell,  cloister'd  Eden !    I  leave  thee  forever ! 
No    more    through    thy  gorges  and  glaciers  to 

roamj 

But  in  far  distant  lands  I'll  forget,  never,  never, 
The  grandeur  and  peace  of  thy  sweet  mountain 
home. 


A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


A  PKIZE  POEM.' 

AWAY  !  away !  my  restless,  reaching  mind ! 
Obey  the  impulse,  beating  high  within  — 
The  truthful  index  of  immortal  life. 
Away  from  books  and  banks  and  civil  strife, 
And  all  the  horde  of  mercenary  cares, 
Long,  long  taskmasters  o'er  thy  humbled  powers. 

Let  nobler  themes,  reveal'd  to  mortal  ken, 
Arouse  thy  slumb'ring  energies  t'  ascend 
The  empyrean  arch  which  grandly  spans 
Ethereal  regions,  flush'd  with  glowing  life ; — 
And  foll'wing  far  the  onward  lines  of  light 
That  richly  streak  the  cloudless  moral  heavens 
And  make  their  focus  on  a  distant  age, 
O'erleap  the  lapse  of  intervening  years, 
And  settle  down  beneath  the  hemisphere 


•A  premium  granted. 


A    VISION  OF  THE  MILLENNIUM.  17 

Of  uncreated  light  that  pales  the  stars, 
And  canopies  the  globe  with  dazzling  sheen — 
Surpassing  far  yon  zone  of  ample  sweep 
That  belts  the  evening  sky  of  Saturn's  orb. 

Transcendent  tight  of  God's  millennial  day ! 
The  hallow'd  radiance  of  supernal  bliss  ! 
The  end  of  prophecy !    The  reign  of  Heav'n ! 

To  this,  in  bygone  years,  the  holy  seers 
With  gifted  vision  look'd ;  and  patriarchs, 
And  saints  of  later  age,  all  bent  their  eyes 
Upon  the  looming  future,  full  of  hope. 
The  gath'ring  light  of  eighteen  hundred  years 
Has  half  reveal'd  the  soul-absorbing  scene, 
And  sprung  the  faith  of  Zion's  sons  afresh. 

Earth,  air  and  sea,  their  noblest  tribute  pay, 
To  speed  creation  to  its  goal  of  bliss. 
Immortal  mind  is  levied  on  from  high, 
And  plumes  her  wing  for  bold  empyreal  flight. 
E'en  Mammon  smiles,  and  taps  his  golden  stores, 
To  cheer  the  heathen  with  the  "  Book  of  Life  j" 
While  Science,  thron'd  amid  the  starry  hosts, 
And  wielding  far  the  scepter  of  her  reign 
1** 


18  A    CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

O'er  boundless  realms — her  own — sublimely  bows, 
And  wreaths  her  wealth  of  honors  round  the  Cross. 

The  Arts — her  servants  all — submissive  yield 
Their  gen'rous  tribute  to  the  glorious  work ; 
And  rivaling  in  speed  the  panting  winds, 
Her  wondrous  messengers,  on  burning  wheel 
Swift  scour  the  bosom  of  the  boiling  seas, 
And  bear  on  board  the  commerce  of  the  world ; 
Nay,  rarer  still,  the  pabulum  of  life, 
In  Bible  stores,  to  feed  its  famish'd  tribes. 
Then,  rushing  on  o'er  continental  plains, 
They  bound  in  smoke  and  thunder  through  the  hills, 
And  tuunel'd  mountains  echo  to  their  tread, 
As,  drap'd  in  night,  and  yelling  to  the  winds, 
They  pierce  th>  embowel'd  rock,  and,  belching  fire, 
Insult  his  throne,  and  challenge  Pluto's  reign  ! 
The  Stygian  gloom  surpass'd,  th'  emergent  train 
Swings  high  in  air,  and  rings  along  the  cliffs; 
Transilient,  clears  a  hundred  yawning  chasms, 
And,  tireless,  leaps  the  intervening  floods, 
To  hail  with  eagle  scream  the  farthest  goal. 

Not  still  enough  to  crown  this  matchless  age, 
And  conquer  Nature  for  the  reign  of  Grace — 


A    VISION  OF  THE  MILLENNIUM.  19 

The  very  seas  unbar  their  coral  caves, 

To  let  the  world  look  in !    And  far  below 

The  em'rald  beds  where  fabled  mermaids  sleep, 

The  wir'y  cable  springs  its  graceful  curves, 

And  widely  spans  suboceanic  steeps  j 

While  thought,  electric,  shoots  the  deeps  profound, 

To  gladden  nations  on  the  distant  shore, 

And  bind,  in  brothers'  bonds,  antipodes. 

All,  all  portend  th'  august,  approaching  day. 
Faith,  stirr'd  by  thick'ning  signs  that  mark  the  time, 
Uplifts  her  kindling  eye,  and  hurries  on 
To  hail  the  dawn  of  great  Messiah's  reign. 

The  world's  foregone !    Its  noisy  din  is  hush'd ; 
Earth's  sickly  hopes  and  vapid  joys  forgot. 
The  orient  heav'us,  aglow  with  liquid  gold, 
Outspread  their  splendors  on  creation's  hosts. 

The  wid'ning  day  unfolds — THE  SHILOH  COMES  ! 
The  streamers  from  His  rising  throne  flash  far, 
And  flush  the  skies  with  greater  glories  near. 

Hail !  Prince  of  Peace !    Great  David's  Son  and 
Lord! 


20  A    CLUSTER   OF  POEMS. 

Eternal  Power,  all  hail !    Forever  hail ! 

The  ransom'd  nations  shout,  "Thy  kingdom  come!" 

*  *  *  *  * 

Oh,  what  a  scene !    A  God  on  earth  again  I 
And  crowding  millions  of  apostate  men, 
Each  full  of  heaven,  and  welconrd  to  His  smiles  I 
Symphonious  hallelujahs  echoing  far, 
And  rolling  on  the  winds,  to  list'ning  zones, 
The  boundless  raptures  of  a  world  redeem'd ! 

All,  all  is  peace.    Perennial  glory  shines 
O'er  the  broad  bosom  of  the  moral  deep. 
No  ruffian  tempests  lash  the  sea- of  life, 
To  wreck  their  victims  on  a  hopeless  coast  j 
Calm  sleep  the  waves — the  howling  winds  are  hush'd. 
For  more  than  Neptune  rules  the  noiseless  main. 
Thrice  hallow'd  era  to  the  tribes  of  earth ! 
The  great  Deceiver  struggles  in  his  chains, 
The  prison'd  victim  of  Messiah's  pow'r. 
Infernal  malice  heaves  its  burning  breast, 
But  dare  not  sluice  its  venom  on  the  world. 
Sin,  scath'd  and  sear'd,  has  withered  to  its  death, 
And  plants  of  holy  growth  o'erspread  the  land. 
No  clarion  rings  t'  inflame  the  martial'd  host, 
Or  drown  the  clangor  of  then?  flashing  steel ; 


A    VISION  OF  THE  MILLENNIUM.  ^\ 

No  thund'ring  ordnance  shakes  th'  ensanguin'd  plain, 
Nor  butcher'd  thousands  bleach  on  foreign  soil. 
No  deadly  blade  is  launch'd  by  villain's  hand  j 
No  reckless  mobs  exult  in  seething  flames. 
The  black,  confounded  brotherhood  of  crime 
Abhor  the  light,  and  covert  seek  in  hell. 
One  broad,  one  boundless,  one  intensive  day 
Illumes  the  moral  world,  and  gilds  the  grave ! 
Earth  breathes  the  air  of  heaven.    Celestial  sounds 
Ring  through  her  thousand  palaces,  and  swell 
In  rapturous  strains  from  cottages  of  clay ! 

One  step — one  brief,  one  rapid,  noiseless  step, 
Soft  as  an  angel's  tread  on  Hermou's  dew — 
And  all  is  heaven  ;   unmask'd,  unclouded  heaven  ! 
A  GOD  UNVELL'D  !     Supernal  bliss  begun. 
Stupendous  thought !  The  ravish'd  soul's  o'erwhelm'd ! 
Its  seat  a  throne ;  immensity  its  range ! 

****** 
But  stay !    These  vasty  contemplations  sweep 
My  spirit  from  its  moorings.    Where  am  I  f 
High  heaven's  the  focus  of  the  Godhead's  light, 
Where  none  but  eyes  immortal  gaze  unscath'd. 

****** 
Poor  earth-born  child, retreat !  Thoutread'st  too  far; 
Thy  sense  o'crpowerYl  recoils,  and  shrinks  abash'd. 


22  A    CLUSTER   OF  POEMS. 


Await  the  opening  future  fast  in 
And,  clad  in  peerless  mail  of  lieav'nly  mold, 
Still  breast  the  wingless  bolts  that  wand'ring  fly 
From  spent  assailants,  tott'ring  to  their  fall. 

A  mother's  voice  inspires,  and  sainted  forms 
That  arm'd  thy  boyhood  with  the  shield  of  pray  'r, 
Seem  bending  from  their  thrones  of  living  light, 
And  wave  the  victor's  palm,  to  woo  thcc  on. 

The  conflict  nears  its  close  —  the  heights  are  scal'd  — 
The  fiercest  batt'ries,  silenc'd,  boom  no  more. 
Th'  infernal  foe,  with  shattered  shield  and  blade, 
Vindictive,  fears  and  flies  supernal  pow'r, 
And  leaves  his  strongholds  to  the  "  sons  of  God." 

The  skies  are  blushing  as  the  morning  rose  ; 
And  Vict'ry,  bending  from  her  azure  throne, 
Entwines  her  garlands  for  Thy  conq'riug  brow. 
Thy  rapturous  gaze,  from  inspiration's  peaks, 
Caught  but  the  adumbration,  shooting  far, 
Of  world-  wide  splendors  in  a  coming  age. 
That  age  is  hast'uing  on.   God  speed  its  pace, 
Till,  stooping  from  their  heights,  the  burthen'd  skios 
Are  rent  with  overcharge  of  endless  bliss, 
And  cloudless  glory  merges  earth  in  heaven  ! 


THE  RAINBOW  DREAM.  23 


A   PREMIUM  POEM.* 

IT  was  night  on  the  plaiu,  and  the  village  was  still ; 

.Not  a  wing  was  afloat  oil  the  air. 
Ev'ry  wheel  was  at  rest  in  the  neighboring  mill, 

And  the  invalid  doz'd  in  his  chair. 

I  had  pray'd  for  the  lov'd  ones  in  camps  far  away, 

And  had  sunk  in  the  arms  of  repose, 
Overpower'd  by  the  cares  and  the  toils  of  the  day, 

When  a  bright  dreamy  vision  arose. 

It  was  twilight,  it  seem'd,  as  I  gaz'd  from  my  room, 
And  beheld,  in  the  dark  southern  sky, 

A  KAINBOW  in  beauty  and  majesty  loom 
O'er  the  billowy  cloud-drifts  on  high. 

As  I  stepp'd  from  the  door,  and  with  rapid  eye-glance 
Swept  the  broad  panorama  around, 


Written  during  the  war,  and  trutlofulin  its  details. 


24  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

How  sublime  was  the  pomp  through  the  blazing  ex 
panse  ! 
While  the  atmosphere  breath'd  not  a  sound. 

For  in  prismatic  glory  the  heavens  all  smiPd, 

And  shone  on  the  landscape  below  j 
From  horizon  to  zenith  the  arches  were  pil'd — 

East,  west,  north  and  south  were  aglow  I 

Fleecy  masses  of  vapor,  disrupted  and  pale, 

As  if  taking  their  leave  of  the  sky, 
Floated  gloomily  by  over  mountain  and  vale — 

Yet  they  robb'd  not  a  bow  of  its  dye. 

Far  aloft  in  the  east  was  the  "  All-seeing  Eye," 
And,  resplendent  with  streamers  of  light, 

It  was  burning  like  Constantino's  Cross  in  the  sky, 
While  the  world  stood  in  awe  at  the  sight. 

Great   God !    with   what   grandeur   creation   then 
shone, 

In  her  purple,  and  crimson,  and  gold ! 
Was  the  curtain  uplifted  that  circles  the  Throne, 

And  a  scroll  from  the  Godhead  unroll'd  ? 


THE  RAINBOW  DREAM.  25 

Were  the  thousand  bright  arches  that  spann'd  the 

blue  dome, 

The  symbolic  foretokens  of  peace  ? 
Shall  the  tempest  that  beats  o'er  my  once  happy 

home, 
And  the  thunder  of  battle,  soon  cease  1 

Shall  the  red  clouds  of  war,  rent  and  torn  by  the 
blast 

That  Mercy  shall  speed  from  on  high, 
Be  swept  from  our  sky,  and  the  sunshine  at  last 

Kindle  joy  through  the  land,  far  and  nigh  ? 

Does  the  eye  of  Omniscience  auspiciously  beam 

On  the  land  of  the  orange  and  pine, 
To  encourage  our  faith  with  the  glories  that  gleam 

From  a  providence  truly  divine  ? 

Then  thanks  for  the  vision,  so  rich  and  so  rare, 
So  abounding  with  hope  and  with  God ! 

We  shall  outlive  the  tempest,  and  breathe  a  free  air, 
Where  ensanguin'd  battalions  have  trod ! 

2 


26  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


SITUATED  IN  DE  KALB  COUNTY,  GEORGIA. 

GREAT  granite  monster,  whence  thy  birth  $ 
What  age  upheav'd  thy  giant  form  1 

Why  has  the  rent  and  lab'riug  earth 
Disgorg'd  thee  bare  to  sun  and  storm  1 

Why  cliug'st  thou  to  her  breast,  disowu'd — 
A  naked  outcast,  scath'd  and  peel'd — 

While  smiling  jjlains  her  lap  has  iiurs'd, 
Are  crown'd  with  wealth  of  wood  and  field  ? 

A  foundling  flung,  without  a  name, 
'Mid  winds  and  skies  to  stand  alone  j 

What  paps  have  uurs'd  thy  Titan  frame  I 
What  gorgon  glance  transform'd  to  stone  ? 

Thy  natal  hour  no  mein'ries  reach — 
Far  lost  in  a  primeval  age, 

*  See  Appendix  O. 


THE  STONE  MOUNTAIN.  27 

When  fire  and  flood,  in  fearful  breach 
Of  pristine  order,  shot  their  rage. 

Upheav'd  to  heaven,  in  hoary  pride, 
O'er  toppling  thrones  thou  tow'rest  now. 

Wild  hurricanes  have  lash'd  thy  side ; 
Insulting  thunders  storm'd  thy  brow. 

Yet  there  thou  gloomest,  stern  and  strong — 
The  wrecks  of  tempests  at  thy  feet ; 

The  storm-god's  thrilling  battle-gong 
Silenc'd,  as  all  his  hosts  retreat. 

Bald,  bleak  and  bleach'd,  thou  ling'rest  on, 

Survivor  of  a  world  entomb'd ; 
And,  rob'd  in  light,  thy  rocky  throne 

Shall  brave  the  skies  till  earth  is  doom'd. 

Great  monumental  pile,  live  on ! 

For  suns  shall  gild  thy  royal  head 
When  Egypt's  pyramids  are  gone, 

With  all  their  underlying  dead. 

Down  deep  below  thy  cloudless  face 
The  storm  of  internecine  war 


28  A    CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

May  roll  its  columns  round  thy  base, 
Led  on  by  their  portentous  star. 

Unsheeted  heroes  long  shall  sleep 
In  countless  thousands  at  thy  feet, 

And  widows  wail,  and  orphans  weep, 
No  more  their  mold'riug  dead  to  greet.* 

But  though  a  people  gor'd  and  torn, 
Bewail  in  blood  their  martyrs  gone — 

No  grief  for  millions  thus  that  mourn, 
Shall  ever  stir  thy  heart  of  stone. 

In  scathless  strength  and  stoic  gloom, 
Thou  still  shalt  mock  the  wastes  of  years, 

Till  herald  thunders  wake  the  tomb, 
And  God  in  judgment  pomp  appears. 


*  During  the  late  destructive  war  between  the  Northern 
and  Southern  States,  a  battle  was  fought  near  the  base  of 
this  mountain. 


THE  PHASES  OF  WOMAN.  29 


*t 


I  SAW  her  a  bright  and  a  lovely  thing, 
As  she  press'd  the  lips  that  taught  her ; 

Like  a  rosebud  nurs'd  in  the  lap  of  spring 
She  bloom'd — and  I  calPd  her  "  daughter." 

Again  I  gaz'd  as  she  pass'd  along, 
And  a  brother  sinil'd  and  kiss'd  her ; 

With  her  ringing  laugh  and  her  witching  song, 
'Twas  a  joy  to  call  her  "  sister." 

I  saw  her  again  in  her  queenly  pride, 

As  a  raptur'd  lover  claim'd  her; 
She  stood  at  the  altar,  his  brilliant  bride, 

And  his  charming  "  wife  "  he  nam'd  her. 

I  saw  her  a  matron,  in  riper  years, 
When  she  clasp'd  to  her  heart  another ; 

It  lay  and  gaz'd  on  her  grateful  tears  j 
Then  siniM,  and  call'd  her  "  mother." 


30  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

I  saw  her  last,  as  she  pass'd  away, 
With  her  household  bending  round  her 

A  convoy  came  from  the  realms  of  day, 
And  an  "  angel "  form  they  found  her. 

Oh,  let  me  repose  upon  woman's  breast ! 

Let  her  lap  in  childhood  hold  me ! 
And  in  ripe  old  age,  when  I  sink  to  rest, 

May  her  guardian  arms  enfold  me  1 


TO  THE  YEAR  1860.  31 


to  tyt  f poring  *t 


THE  EVE  OF  OUR  CALAMITOUS  WAR. 

How  placidly  shines  the  morning  star, 
As  she  starts  on  her  new  career ; 

And  heralds  the  pomp  of  Aurora's  car, 
Through  the  gates  of  the  opening  year ! 

In  advance  of  the  rosy  blush  of  day, 

She  moves  as  a  virgin  queen ; 
And  ascends  the  skies  but  to  sink  away 

In  the  depths  of  their  blue  serene. 

The  orient  heavens  are  pav'd  with  gold, 
For  the  tread  of  Apollo's  wheel  ; 

And  its  dazzling  beams,  as  the  gates  unfold, 
An  awaking  world  reveal. 

The  homes  of  the  happy  with  shouts  resound, 
As  they  welcome  the  new-born  cheer  j 


32  A    CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

While  Eighteen  Hundred  and  Sixty's  crown'd, 
And  hail'd  as  the  reigning  year. 

The  morning  has  spread  her  silver  sheen 
On  the  mountain's  glowing'  brow, 

And  millions  that  greet  the  resplendent  scene 
Now  start  to  the  loom  and  plow. 

How  merrily  rings  the  peasant's  song 

O'er  his  sunlit  hills  and  plains ; 
While  maids  and  mothers  the  notes  prolong, 

Until  childhood  swells  the  strains. 

But  the  laugh  and  the  sport  of  the  "  Christ 
mas-tree," 

And  the  "  Christmas-gift"  and  gun, 
With  the  negro's  smirk,  and  his  banjo  glee, 

Have  fled  from  the  rising  sun  ; 

While  a  thousand  wheels  that  have  palsied  hung 

Till  the  holiday  sports  were  o'er, 
Are  now  in  their  bands  and  braces  swung, 

And  thunder  and  smoke  once  more. 

Then  away,  away  as  their  echoes  roll 
Over  mountain  and  lake  and  field, 


TO  THE  YEAR  1860.  33 

Lo !  the  nations  are  rousing  from  Line  to  Pole, 
For  the  shock  of  the  spear  and  shield. 

There's  a  struggle  ahead,  'twixt  counter  pow'rs, 
And  the  thrones  of  the  kingdoms  shake ; 

The  heavens  are  gath'ring  avenging  show'rs, 
And  the  hearts  of  the  guilty  quake.* 

Oh,  ye  godly  seers  of  the  filmy  past  1 
Ere  the  midsummer  sign  shall  rise, 

Shall  my  country  stoop  to  the  stormy  blast, 
Or  withstand  the  inclement  skies  ? 

Great  Power  above !  lock  the  demon's  wheel 

That  rushes  with  blade  and  brand 
To  gloat  o'er  the  carnage  of  crirnson'd  steel, 

And  the  smoke  of  a  burning  land ! 

A  fratricide's  doom  is  in  red  reserve, 
And  Vengeance  has  nurs'd  the  blaze, 

To  scathe  and  to  sear  the  vandal  nerve 
That  essays  the  torch  to  raise. 

Oh,  bind  our  temple  with  bolts  of  steel, 
And  seam  it  with  molten  gold ! 


*  There  were  at  this  time  rumors  of  war  in  Europe. 

2* 


34  A    CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

From  its  flaming  walls  let  the  traitor  reel, 
Under  Julian's  curse  of  old  ! 

But  surely  a  cordon  of  angels  stand 

To  encircle  its  lofty  dome  ; 
And  a  legion  more,  by  divine  command, 

Shall  encamp  round  Freedom's  home. 

Then  bury  the  past  in  eternal  night, 
With  its  tales,  and  tears,  and  blood  j 

Let  us  rise  on  the  wings  of  the  morning's  light, 
To  meet  and  commune  with  God. 

Though  creation's  clock  no  sound  has  rung, 
And  its  beat  has  alarm'd  no  ears ; 

Yet  are  countless  cycles  of  ages  flung 
From  the  sweep  of  its  rolling  spheres. 

We  are  onward  bound,  with  a  brisker  breeze 

And  a  bolder  piston  stroke  ; 
Already  we  rock  on  the  heaving  seas, 

And  the  favoring  skies  invoke. 

There  are  signs  in  the  heavens,  and  signs  on 

earth, 
That  presage  the  millennial  reign  ; 


TO  THE  YEAR   1860.  35 

And  millions  of  prayers,  of  priceless  worth, 
Are  ascending  from  land  and  main. 

The  Lion  of  Judah  has  opeu'd  the  seal, 
And  the  last  seventh  trumpet  sounds ; 

Like  Alpine  thunder,  the  echoing1  peal 
From  the  temple  of  God  resounds. 

O  God  of  the  cross  to  the  guilty  giv'n ! 

In  thy  cloudless  reign  appear ; 
Make  the  earth  an  elysium  filPd  with  heaven, 

Ere  the  close  of  this  circling  year ! 


36  A    CLUSTER   OF  POEMS. 


LIKE   POPE'S  BRITISH   ROSE,    "THE  TYPE   OF   SWEET  RULE  AND 
GENTLE  MAJESTY." 

ANALYSIS.  —  1.  Its  antiquity  and  continuance  a  proof  of  its  divine  origin.  2.  Dawn  of 
day.  3.  Sunrise.  4.  fts  universal  quiet,  and  noiseless  reign,  j.  The  morning  Sun 
day-school.  6.  Approaching  noon.  7.  Gathering  to  the  house  of  worship.  S.  Church 
service  commenced,  y  Tht  pulpit  appeal  of  the  hour.  jo.  Its  solemn  and  affecting 
close.  11.  A  mare  extended  survey.  12.  The  Sabbath  on  a  heathen  shore.  13.  The 
Missionary's  triumph.  14.  The  hallowing  anticipation  of  the  ETERNAL  SABBATK. 

HAIL,  peaceful  Sabbath  !    Type  of  endless  rest ! 
Thou  voiceless  oracle  of  priceless  truth  ! 
The  nation's  guarantee  that  Israel's  God — 
Who  in  the  depth  of  by -gone  years,  from  high, 
Baptized  tby  virgin  hours,  and  claim'd  them  His — 
Still  lives  in  Ziou,  stretching  far  His  reign, 
And  pouring  proof  on  prophecy,  where'er 
Thy  hallow'd  sunshine  greets  the  Christian  world ! 

Thrice  welcome,  happy  day !  my  spirit  hails 
With  joyous  bound  thy  monumental  hours. 
They  come,  fresh  with  the  story  of  the  Cross, 
And  laden  with  salvation's  richest  fruits, 


THE  CHRISTIAN  SABBATH.  37 

Kiped  on  Calv'ry's  top  in  noonday  night, 
And  grown  in  luscious  plenty  from  the  soil 
Steep'd  in  the  gore  of  God's  vicarious  Son. 

Sweet  day  of  rest !     How  still  creation  round ! 
Hush'd  in  divine  repose ;  still  more  like  heaven, 
When  starry  sentinels  with  beamless  lamps, 
Retiring  fast,  throw  wide  the  gates  of  day, 
And  o'er  the  waking  millions,  looming  high, 
Aurora's  purple  robe  adorns  the  east — 
Emblazon'd  symbol  of  approaching  pomp. 
But  soon,  the  portals  past,  in  crimson  glow 
Apollo's  blazing  chariot  mounts  the  sky, 
And,  slowly  rolling  up  the  steep  of  heaven. 
In  cloudless  glory  flings  its  golden  light 
In  wide  profusion  over  flood  and  field — 
^ow  sporting  on  the  sluinb'ring  infant's  cheek, 
And  kissing  into  second  life  the  lids 
Late  softly  lock'd  in  soothing  sleep's  embrace ; 
And  now,  its  dazzling  luster  flashing  far 
O'er  dimpling  stream  and  azure-tinted  lake, 
Wakes  up  the  sleepers  from  their  wat'ry  beds, 
And,  bounding  into  light,  the  finny  tribes 
Leap  high  in  air  t'  express  their  Maker's  praise  ; 
While  woods,  responsive  to  the  glad'ning  sounds, 


38  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


Send  back  the  echoes  of  a  thousand  strains 
From  joyous  warblers  in  their  leafy  bow'rs, 
Their  matin  melodies  of  grateful  song. 

But  now  creation's  hymns  have  ceas'd,  and  wide 
The  blissful  Sabbath  spreads  its  balmy  peace ; 
Intelligence  is  thron'd  to  honor  God, 
And  hush  the  clamors  of  a  guilty  world. 
*  *  *  *  *  * 

Behold  how  wide  the  noiseless  quiet  reigns ! 
The  plow  mid-furrow  stands,  as  loath  to  move, 
And  mar  the  solemn  grandeur  of  the  scene. 
The  faithful  ox,  half  dozing  'mid  the  shade, 
Revolves  his  cud,  or  freely  roams  the  plain. 
The  noble  horse,  reliev'd  from  rein  and  draught, 
His  forage  grinds,  and,  patient  in  his  stall, 
Atones  in  dreamy  inood  his  weekly  toils. 
The  grating  saw,  reverberating  axe 
And  rustling  plane,  their  deaf  'mug  stridor  hush, 
And  noisy  Commerce  shuts  her  thousand  doors. 
The  busy  fact'ry's  thund'rous  hum  has  ceas'd — 
Its  glowing  wheels  have  paus'd  to  take  their  rest  5 
Its  prison'd  sons  to  breathe  the  air  of  heaven. 
E'en  greed  of  gold — whose  avaricious  clutch 
For  six  days  past  has  beggar'd  helpless  babes, 


THE  CHRISTIAN  SABBATH.  39 

Extorted  tears  from  homeless  widows'  eyes, 
And  fill'd  its  coffers  with  ungodly  gain, 
In  headlong  haste  to  rival  Mammon's  fame — 
Must  halt  for  once,  and  cloak  his  canc'rous  lust, 
Or  meet  the  blasting  glance  of  public  scorn. 

All,  all  is  calm.    A  bless'd  armistice  reigns — 
And  angel  voices  seem  to  whisper  peace. 
****** 

All  over  Christendom's  extended  plains 
Bright  smiling  groups  of  joyous  youth  appear, 
Treading,  with  book  in  hand  and  agile  step, 
The  honorVl  pathway  to  the  house  of  God. 
Anon,  a  gentle  hum  pervades  the  aisles, 
And  softly  floats  along  the  ambient  air, 
As  lisping  tongues  rehearse  the  storied  scenes 
Of  oriental  archives,  penn'd  by  Heaven, 
To  guide  th'  expectant  nations  to  the  Cross. 
Their  ringing  sounds,  like  chimes  of  silver  bells — 
Subdu'd  by  graver  notes  of  riper  age — 
Roll  through  the  groiu'd  and  fretted  vaults,  to  win 
Symphonious  voices  from  the  echoing  walls. 
Seraphic  sounds !    'Tis  Zion's  infant  hosts 
Before  their  King,  in  reverential  mood, 
In  holy  training  for  the  wars  of  Heaven. 


40  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

That  modest,  meek-eyed  youth,  of  sylph-like  form, 
Unconscious  of  his  worth,  is  gathering  strength — 
.  Immortal  strength,  of  more  than  earthly  mold — 
To  join  the  sacramental  host  elect, 
And  wield,  in  future  times,  an  earthquake's  pow'r 
Against  the  lofty  battlements  of  sin. 

Yon  cherub  sister — lovely,  young  and  fair ; 
Whose  clust'riug  locks  her  polish'd  temples  shade, 
But  leave  in  open  view  an  angel  smile, 
T'  expand  the  roses  on  her  crimson  cheek ; 
Her  guileless  bosom  full  of  saintly  zeal, 
Her  parting  lips  to  soft  inquiry  fram'd ; 
Whose  sparkling  eyes  with  anxious  gaze  surveys 
Each  line  that  marks  her  teacher's  speaking  face, 
While,  bright  with  joy,  she  quaffs  the  heav'nly 

draught 

That  flows  in  luscious  stream  from  lips  she  loves, 
Surpassing  far  the  nectar  of  the  gods — 
In  years  to  come,  with  matron  pride,  shall  nurse 
Some  infant  Washington,  whose  lofty  soul 
In  conscious  majesty  shall  one  day  rise 
To  wrench  the  scepter  from  a  tyrant's  grasp, 
And  win  the  homage  of  a  nation's  heart ; 
Or  train  around  the  lov'd  maternal  knee 


THE  CHRISTIAN  SABBATH.  41 

Some  gifted  Wesley,  born  to  deathless  fame, 
And  "  pregnant  with  celestial  fire,"  desigii'd 
To  re-illume  the  darksome  temple-courts, 
Aiid  kindle  off'riugs  at  teu  thousand  shrines. 

Another,  and  another,  bath'd  in  living  light 
At  these  pure  founts,  in  coming  years  shall  sweep 
In  ample  orbit  through  the  moral  heavens, 
And  blend  their  radiance  in  the  glowing  skies. 
****** 

But  richer  splendor  crowns  the  reigning  day, 
And  clothes  a  hemisphere  in  rainbow  dyes. 

Hark  !  hark !     The  sweetly  solemn  bell 
In  measur'd  tones  now  strikes  the  stilly  air  ; 
And  chiming  long  and  loud  with  sister  sounds, 
Now  woos  the  stirring  thousands  from  their  homes, 
To  crowd  the  temple-gates,  and  think  on  heaven, 
Where  God's  own  altar  burns,  and  purer  light, 
Celestial,  streams  from  Zion's  holy  hill. 

Transporting  sight !  Whole  floods  of  human  forms, 
In  cities-full,  roll  down  the  sounding  streets. 
The  country's  throug'd  with  well-attir'd  groups, 
Moving  in  silence  to  the  house  of  prayer. 

2** 


42  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

The  solemn  audience  waits  in  mnte  suspense, 
Till,  rising  to  his  consecrated  desk, 
The  man  of  God  appears.    Th'  Eternal  Word 
Inspires  his  glowing  heart,  and  pours  its  truth 
In  healing  volumes  from  his  chasten'd  lips ; 
Then  bow'd  in  suppliant  mood,  his  soul  on  fire, 
He  wings  the  faith  of  hundreds  for  the  throne 
Where  boundless  Mercy  waits  to  lavish  peace. 
In  earnest,  calm  appeal,  his  work  begins. 

His  field  embraces  oriental  climes, 
Where  human  Hope  was  shorn  of  all  her  wealth, 
And  outrag'd  Virtue  sought  her  native  skies. 
His  theme  is  high  as  heav'u  and  deep  as  hell ; 
But,  ranging  through  its  vast  domains,  he  dwells 
On  "  man's  first  disobedience  and  the  fruit 
Of  that  forbidden  tree,  whose  mortal  taste 
Brought  death  into  the  world,  with  all  our  woe." 
In  burning  words  he  paints  the  wrath  pluck'd  down, 
To  blast  the  Eden  where  the  deed  was  done, 
And  brand  with  infamy  the  human  race  5 
Then  turns  to  Calvary  with  palms  outspread, 
And,  full  of  faith  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
Invokes  th'  incarnate  God,  once  bath'd  in  blood, 
Whose  agonies  upheav'd  the  startled  globe 


THE  CHRISTIAN  SABBATH.  43 

Till  rocks  were  rent  and  graves  disgorg'd  their  dead ; 
While  weeping  Nature,  bending  o'er  His  cross, 
Her  laws  forgot,  and  shudder'd  to  the  stars  ; 
And  sympathizing  Mercy  deign'd  to  drape 
The  sunless  heavens  with  the  pall  of  death. 

Then,  rapt  in  bliss,  th7  exulting  preacher  cries : 
"  The  plea  is  heard  I     The  Couq'ror  claims   His 

crown, 

And  Death  and  Hell  lie  crush'd  beneath  His  feet ! 
Creation  smiles,  and  angel  guards  descend  ; 
A  cloudy  throne  receives  the  rising  Lord ; 
Ummmber'd  seraphs  crowd  the  gates  of  heaven, 
To  greet  their  conq'ring  King  with  choral  strains, 
And  Truth  and  Mercy  kiss  in  long  embrace." 

The  spell-bound  audience  feel  th'  unearthly  theme. 
And  deep  emotion  starts  the  rising  tear. 
The  reckless  renegade  no  longer  taunts, 
Nor  dares  to  spurn  the  Saviour  from  his  soul. 
Old  age  and  youth  in  blending  pathos  melt, 
And  saints,  enraptur'd,  hail  their  coming  heaven. 

Oh  hallow'd  day !    The  sooth'd  and  soften'd  crowd 
In  pensive  rev'rence  seek  their  sev'ral  homes, 


44  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

To  stay  themselves  on  God,  and  nobly  foil 
The  fierce  temptations  of  the  opening  week. 

But  still  enlarge  the  scene.    Far,  far  away, 
Amid  the  blue  Pacific's  watery  wastes, 
Within  the  fiery  Tropic's  dazzling  zone, 
Owhyhee  lifts  above  th'  unfathom'd  floods 
His  Alpine  brow,  to  brave  the  heats  of  heaven 
And  vaunt  his  sparkling  diadem  of  snow, 
Where  Manna  Koa's  yawning  crater  spouts, 
With  thund'ring  sounds,  its  cataracts  of  fire. 
'Mid  these  inhospitable  skies  he  bares 
His  rocky  breast  to  break  the  ocean  wave 
Where  kindred  islands  slumber  on  the  deep, 
And  templed  barbarism,  steep'd  in  blood, 
Late  held  its  orgies  on  the  smoking  soil. 

But  Truth  Eternal,  borne  upon  the  winds, 
On  high  commission  to  the  pagan  world, 
Its  beacon-lights  has  shed  through  fog  and  gloom, 
To  rouse  the  torpid  sleepers  from  their  dreams, 
And  turn  their  guilty  thousands  to  the  Cross. 

\ 

What  wondrous  prodigy  is  here  !     A  birth — 
A  NATION'S  MORAL  BIKTH — in  one  short  day ! 


THE  CHRISTIAN  SABBATH.  45 

Idolatry  abjar'd,  and  sinless  blood 
From  infants'  veins  no  more  to  curse  the  land. 
Oh  blissful  change !    The  sacred  Sabbath  now 
With  halcyon  beams  illumes  the  sea-bound  group. 

No  steeple-bell  disturbs  the  native  wilds. 
The  forest  sleeps,  and  lounging  herds  traverse 
The  sunlit  plains,  while  Industry's  at  rest. 
The  bark  canoe  no  longer  skims  the  waves, 
But,  tether'd  to  the  shore,  with  easy  swing 
It  rocks  responsive  to  the  rippling  tide. 
The  meshy  net  no  finny  game  entoils, 
But  hangs  on  neighb'ring  rocks,  to  drip  and  dry. 
Nay,  dreamy  silence  woos  the  beasts  to  roam 
Without  the  dread  of  spear  or  whizzing  shaft. 
The  timid  kangaroo,  from  shady  copse, 
With  nursling  brood  embowel'd  in  her  folds, 
Leaps  free  and  far,  to  browse  amid  the  cliffs. 
The  parakeet  and  tufted  cockatoo 
Their  gaudy  plumage  flaunt  in  open  air, 
And  chatter  to  the  viewless  winds  uuharm'd, 
For  now  the  tawny  island  hordes  are  still ; 
The  palm-leaf  chapel  holds  their  manly  forms, 
As,  bow'd  in  solemn  mood,  with  hands  outspread, 
They  join  the  fervent,  soul -absorbing  prayer 


46  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

The  Missionary  sends  to  listening  Heaven; 
For  savage  nature — tam'd,  and  sooth'd,  and  sav'd — 
Glad  hails  the  hour,  and,  rising  at  its  close, 
Loud  shouts  redemption  to  the  sounding  seas. 

Heaven-consecrated  day  I    The*  Godhead's  boon  ! 
The  pledge  hebdomadal  of  bliss  to  come ! 
O'er  suppliant  tribes  and  yielding  kingdoms  rule, 
Till  Hottentot  and  Hindoo,  Turk  and  Moor, 
And  all  the  hosts  of  idol-serving  knee, 
Shall  hail  thy  gladsome  hours,  and  weekly  swell 
The  world- wide  anthem  to  the  Christian's  God  ! 

Then  let  the  seasons  roll,  and  Sabbaths  come, 
In  pregustation  of  eternal  rest ! 

Soon,  soon  th'  Apocalyptic  trump  shall  ring 
The  herald  thunders  of  the  coming  throne ; 
And  buried  millions  leap  from  sod  and  sea, 
To  swell  the  pageant,  and  to  meet  their  God. 
The  scene  shall  pass  in  quiclc  but  dread  review. 
The  earth  in  seething  flames — its  millions  doom'd — 
And  then  the  stormy  elements  shall  sink, 
Like  fretful  babes,  to  silence  and  to  peace. 


THE  CHRISTIAN  SABBATH.  47 

Great  God,  how  grand !    Th'  ecstatic  vision's  true ! 
Th'  ETERNAL  SABBATH  sheds  its  morning  light, 
Undimm'd  by  shadows  and  unspent  by  years  j 
While  glory,  streaming  from  Jehovah's  eye, 
Floods  heaven  with  boundless  bliss,  and  wakes 
The  hallelujahs  of  a  WORLD  REDEEM'D  ! 


48  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


I  HAVE  seen  the  lightning's  thong 
Fiercely  lash  the  howling  skies ; 

Heard  the  thunder's  battle-gong 
Bid  the  giant  tempest  rise : 

I  have  seen  the  midnight  air 
Redden  with  the  meteor's  blaze j 

Show'rs  of  sky-built  rockets  glare 
O'er  a  world's  affrighted  gaze : 

I  have  heard  the  quaking  ground 
Bellow  to  the  whirlwind's  blast ; 

Trembled  at  the  startling  sound, 
As  the  wild  tornado  pass'd : 

I  have  felt  creation  rock 

To  the  earthquake's  fearful  tread ; 
While  amid  th'  astounding  shock 

Houseless  thousands  fear'd  and  fled 

I  have  groan'd  with  earthly  woes — 
Battled  with  Misfortune's  blast — 


THE  FROWN  OF  GOD.  49 

Gaz'd  upoii  her  dying  throes, 
When  a  mother  breath'd  her  last : 

Yet  amid  these  scenes  of  dread, 
Faith  may  spread  her  cloudless  skies ; 

Man  survive  when  Nature's  dead, 
And  in  richer  glory  rise. 

But  one  horror,  deadlier  far, 
Wraps  the  soul  in  Stygian  gloom — 

Leaves  the  world  without  a  star, 
Pours  its  curse  beyond  the  tomb. 

Thunders,  whirlwinds,  earthquakes,  raise 

Scarce  a  murmur  on  his  ears, 
When  its  piercing,  with'ring  blaze, 

Stirs  the  godless  sinner's  fears. 

Let  me  meet  the  lightning's  flash — 
Wear  the  thunder-scars  of  heav'n — 

Eeel  amid  the  tempest's  crash — 
Eide  the  floods,  by  cyclones  driv'n  : 

NOT  the  drunken  globe  stand  still — 

Earthquakes  cleaving  ev'ry  sod ; 
Only  shield  me  from  one  ill ! — 

Save  me  from  THE  FBOWN  OF  GOD  ! 
3 


50  A    CLUSTER   OF  POEMS. 


A  POEM 

ADDRESSED  TO  THE  GRADUATING  CLASS  OF  THE  ATLANTA  MEDICAL 
COLLEGE,  AND  TO  A  LARGE  AND  ATTENTIVE  AUDIENCE  OE  CITIZENS, 
ASSEMBLED  IN  THE  CITY  UALL,  AUGUST  31ST,  18GG. 

[This  young  and  nourishing  city,  which  then  contained  about 
18,000  inhabitants,  was  burnt,  ravaged,  and  razed  to  its  founda 
tions,  in  the  mouth  of  September,  18G4,  by  the  Federal  forces 
under  the  command  of  Gen.  Sherman,  during  the  four  years' 
merciless  internecine  war  betweeu  the  North  aud  the  South. 
But  no  sooner  had  peace  beeu  declared,  than  her  returning 
thousands  who  had  fled  from  their  blazing  homes,  commenced 
to  rebuild  tho  ruined  city  and  repair  their  wasted  fortunes. 
Such  au  outlay  of  human  energy  has  perhaps  never  been 
witnessed  upon  either  continent,  in  the  same  length  of  time, 
and  with  no  larger  resources  at  command.] 

ON  tliis  bright  gala-day  busy  memory  sweeps, 
Upon  broad,  dusky  wiug,  the  exuberant  past  j 

Numbers  twenty-three  mouths,  and  looks  down  on 

the  heaps 
Of  a  war-ravag'd  city,  just  breathing  her  last. 


ATLANTA  CRUSHED  AND  CROWNED.  51 

O  God !  what  a  vision  glares  red  on  the  eye, 
As  earth-rocking  thunders  roll  death  through  the 
streets, 

And  millions  of  capital  melt  in  the  sky, 

As  flames  lash  her  buildings  in  wild,  livid  sheets ! 

Pandemonium  shouts  though  her  sulphurous  hall 
Till  the  revel  infernal  re-echoes  through  hell, 

And  the  great  master  spirit  responds  to  the  call 
That  invokes  his  black  curse  over  mountain  and 
dell. 

But  enough! — there's  a  chapter  of  carnage  and 

blood 

That  shall  glow  in  red  letters  on  history's  page, 
And  shall  rival  the  records  of  fire  and  of  flood 
That  have  scandal'd  a  Nero's  and  Attila's  age. 

****** 
The  demon  of  war  had  scarce  quitted  his  prey, 
And  a  conquering  army  its  plunder  and  lust ; 
Its  cataract  roar  had  but  just  died  away 
Over  bornb-shatter'd  buildings,  now  crumbled  to 
dust, 

When  thousands  who  fled  from  their  blazing  abodes, 
To  seek  among  strangers  a  covert  from  war, 


52  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

Look'd  longingly  back  o'er  the  blood-clotted  roads, 
And  their  courage  replum'd,  under  Hope's  guiding 
star. 

From  the  north,  south,  and  east,  the  worn  refugees 

come, 
And  the  west  pours   her  quota  in    dust-cover'd 

throngs ; 

Each  weeps  o'er  the  wreck  of  his  once  happy  home, 
And    appeals  to  high  Heav'n  to  avenge  all  his 
wrongs. 

Full-soul'd  and  harmonious,  they  rush  to  new  toils, 
And  tax  earth  and  air,  sea  and  sky,  for  supplies ; 

And  though  myrmidon  legions  had  gorg'd  on  her 

spoils, 
They  swear  by  their  manhood  "Atlanta  shall  rise!" 

'Twas  a  struggle  of  giants  that  knew  no  recoil ! 

From  morning  till  midnight  resounded  their  blows; 
The  ingath'ring  thousands  no  dangers  could  foil, 

Till  the  white  flag  of  triumph  in  glory  arose. 

Old  Balbec  and  Luxor  for  ages  have  slept, 
Kedeemless  and  time-worn  and  shrouded  in  gloom; 


ATLANTA    CRUSHED  AND  CROWNED.  53 

O'er  their    huge  broken  columns  the  serpent   has 

crept, 
And  the  yells  of  the  jackal  have  sounded  their  doom. 

But  the  deathless  Gate  City,  though  crush'd  by  the 

tread 

Of  militant  millions  and  thundering  trains, 
Has  rent  her  own  winding-sheet,  burst  from  the  dead, 
And  the  new  pulse  of  life  gushes  warm  through 
her  veins ! 

Hail !  hail !  ye  proud  piles  of  undying  renown ! 

Your  numbers  shall  swell  as  the  ages  roll  on  : 
And  your  sun-lighted  summits    in    grandeur   look 
down 

On  the  contrite  admirers  your  fame  shall  have  won. 

Fair  Queen  of  the  Midlands !  thy  reign  shall  extend 
From  mountain    to  seaboard  where  commerce  is 
found ; 

And  Eeligion  and  Science  in  harmony  blend, 
To  foster  the  virtues  their  bulwarks  surround. 

Thus,  lighting  the  landscape  and  blessing  the  land, 
The  next  generation  thy  name  shall  inspire, 


54  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

To  shout  on  the  soil  where  thy  monuments  stand, 
"  The  souls  of  our  fatJiers  were  proof  against  fire  !  " 

Ye  parchmented  heirs  of  Hippocrates,  rouse ! 

Your  knowledge  must  quacks  and  impostors  con 
found  ; 
Your  fond  "  Alma  Mater "  has  laurel'd  your  brows, 

And  Atlanta  shall  honor  the  sons  she  has  crown'd. 

She  has  own'd  your  profession,  its  temple  repair'd, 
Dismantled  and  torn  by  the  storm  that  has  pass'd . 

Then  build  up  her  fame  with  a  labor  unspar'd, 
That  her  gloom  may  be  turn'd  into  glory  at  last. 


ALL  SHALL  BE  WELL.  55 


DARK,  dark  is  the  night,  and  the  fierce  winds  are 

howling, 

And  red,  stunning  thunderbolts  leap  from  the  sky ; 
The  ocean  is  boiling !  the  heavens  are  scowling  ! 
And  Nature  weeps  crystalline  tears  from  on  high. 
But  wait,  only  wait,  and  the  future  shall  tell, 
That  God  rules  the  tempest,  and  all  shall  be  well. 

The  morning  is  coming !    The  storm-god  is  flying, 
And  leaves  in  his  rear  all  the  spoils  he  has  won  j 
Aurora  is  smiling ;  her  chariot  is  nighing, 
And  soft,  golden  cloudlets  now  herald  the  sun. 
Then  wait,  only  wait,  and  the  future  shall  tell, 
That  God  rules  the  sunbeams,  and  all  shall  be  well. 


But    again    heaven  darkens!    The  rain-floods   are 

pouring, 
And  torrents  careering,  roll  wasting  and  wide. 


56  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

The  meadows  are  delug'd ;  the  rivers  are  roaring, 
And  flocks,  herds  and  homes  are  entomb'd  in  the 

tide. 

But  wait,  only  wait,  and  the  future  shall  tell, 
That  God  rules  the  deluge,  and  all  shall  be  well. 

The  wild  inundation  has  calmly  subsided — 

The  streams  to  their  channels  submissive  recoil ; 
A  fertile  alluvium  thus  is  provided, 
And  husbandmen  reap  richer  fruits  from  the  soil. 
Then  wait,  only  wait,  and  the  future  shall  tell, 
That  God  rules  the  harvest,  and  all  shall  be  well. 
****** 

The  cholera  rages !  An  infant  is  sleeping — 

A  gay,  godless  mother  has  rocked  it  to  rest  j 
But  Heaven  claims  the  cherub ! — the  mother  is  weep 
ing, 

And  bows  to  her  God  with  a  spirit  unblest. 
Still  wait,  only  wait,  and  the  future  shall  tell, 
That  God  rules  in  sorrow,  and  all  shall  be  well. 

That  chamber  is  hallo w'd,  with  angels  attending 
Where  childhood  was  budding,  to  bloom  in  the 

skies ; 


"ALL  SHALL  BE  WELL."  57 

That  mother  has  yielded — her  pray'rs  are  ascend 
ing— 
Resign'd  and  submissive,  peace  beams  from  her 

eyes. 

Then  wait,  only  wait,  and  the  future  shall  tell, 
That  God  rules  in  mercy,  and  all  shall  be  well. 

Thus  providence  rules  o'er  the  works  of  creation, 
And  turns  all  the  darkness  of  earth  into  light ; 
From  sorrow  educes  the  hopes  of  salvation, 
And  crowns  with  its  blessings  misfortune  and  blight. 
Then  wait,  only  wait,  and  the  future  shall  tell, 
That  GOD  RULES  FOREVER  !  and  ALL  SHALL  BE 
WELL. 


58  A  CLUSTER   OF  POEMS. 


AND    ONE    OF   ITS   NOBLE   VICTIMS. 

A  Tribute  to  the  memory  of  THOMAS  PRESTON  SAMFORD,  First 
Lieutenant  of  Company  H,  First  Texas  Regiment,  and  young 
est  son  of  the  liev.  Thomas  Samford,  formerly  of  Georgia,  and 
a  member  of  the  Annual  Conference  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church  in  that  State,  but  since,  a  resident  of  Marshall,  Harrison 
County,  Texas,  and  now  NO  MORE. 

This  noble  young  man  and  Christian  hero,  nndcrthe  overpow 
ering  sense  of  the  terrible  emergency  which  periled  the  future 
destiny  of  the  land  that  gave  him  birth,  early  threw  himself 
into  the  front  ranks  of  resistance  to  what  ho  regarded  unwar 
rantable  encroachments  of  power ;  fought  over  the  gory  field,  and 
through  the  smoke  and  carnage  of  Manassas,stood  firm  and  un 
flinching  in  all  the  fights  around  Richmond,  and  was  reserved 
for  a  patriot's  grave  and  a  hero's  crown,  on  the  distant  soil  of 
Maryland.  Amid  the  roar  of  artillery  and  the  clash  of  arms  in 
the  fearful  struggle  at  Sharpsburg,  while  rushing  on  with  a 
sword  in  one  hand  and  a  pistol  in  the  other,  in  front  of  his  faith, 
ful  command,  and  crying  out,  with  flushed  cheek  and  flashing 
eye,  "  Strike,  my  boys,  for  your  homes  and  your  Confederacy  !'' 
he  gloriously  fell,  a  martyr  to  the  cause  of  the  South.  Uncoffined 
and  unknelled,  ho  was  quietly  laid  away  in  a  soldier's  "  red 
winding-sheet,"  to  await  tho  rewards  of  the  true  and  the 
brave.  A.  M. 


THE  WAR.  59 

THE  earth  has  grown  gray  amid  carnage  and  blood, 
And  battle-fields  reek  with  the  gore  of  the  slain ; 

The  triumphs  of  pestilence,  famine  and  flood, 
All  pale  in  the  glare  of  the  war-god's  reign. 

But  red  though  his  scepter  and  stormy  his  sway 

Over  antediluvian  sons  of  the  soil, 
Surviving  the  Deluge,  he  widen'd  his  way 

To  crush  bleeding  nations,  or  make  them  his  spoil. 

But  what  are  the  trophies  of  ages  gone  by — 
The  laurels  that  cincture  his  storm-furrow'd  brow  ? 

Mere  baubles  of  childhood,  that  fade  in  his  eye, 
To  glories  that  crown  him  a  conqueror  now. 

A  continent  shakes  to  the  weight  of  his  wheel, 
*  And  panoplied  millions  collide  on  the  plain ; 
The  mountains  re-echo  the  clangor  of  steel, 
And  rivers  run  red  with  the  blood  of  the  slain  I 

Here  Mind,  like  the  maniac,  sunders  her  chains, 
And  bounds  to  the  touch  that  has  open'd  her  cell  j 

In  perilous  flight,  circles  Nature's  domains, 
And  peers  to  the  heights  where  the  cherubim 
dwell, 


60  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

Creation,  conceding  her  power  to  explore, 
Unbosoms  her  secrets  for  ages  conceaM; 

And  Science,  from,  deeps  never  sounded  before, 
Uncaverns  her  stores  for  the  camp  and  the  field. 

The  earth,  air  and  ocean,  are  summon'd  at  last 
To  swell  the  key-note  of  the  warrior's  fame ; 

The  hills,  disembowel'd,  give  ore  for  the  blast, 
And  dragon-like  monsters  emerge  from  the  flame. 

The  mountains  are  tunnel'd  with  powder  and  pick, 
For  subterrene  armies  and  thundering  trains ; 

And  herald  dispatches  fly  vivid  and  thick, 

Outsweeping  the  winds  when  the  hurricane  reigns. 

While  out  on  the  deep  a  whole  argosy  rides 
Of  huge  "  pachydermata,"  scaly  with  steel, 

Spurning  bullets  and  bombs  from  their  war-beaten 

sides, 
As  the  charger  the  gadfly  that  lights  on  his  heel. 

Far  down  in  the  floods  where  the  sea-monsters  play, 
A  sulphurous  earthquake  in  embryo  lies, 

Till  transport  or  monitor  steers  in  its  way, 
And  a  submarine  shock  turns  its  keel  to  the  skies. 


THE  WAR.  61 

The  seacoast  and  cities  with  gun-metal  groan, 
And  stunning  explosions  roll  back  from  the  shore ; 

While  the   "  thunderer "  Jove  is   outvoicM  on  his 

throne, 
As  the  bumble-bee's  hum  by  Niagara's  roar. 

Such,  such,  in  this  iron-cast  age,  is  the  sight, 
When  philosophy  wings  ev'ry  fury  with  flame, 

To  decimate  nations — to  blast  and  to  blight, 
And  blazon  with  blood-stains  the  conqueror's  name. 

O  God !  what  an  age  !    Let  posterity  tell 
To  late  generations  the  wars  of  their  sires, 

When  Pluto's  abhorr'd  mythological  hell 
Was  mild,  to  the  blaze  of  their  battle-field  fires. 

Yet  "  offences  will  come,"  for  the  gateway  is  wide 
Whose  portals  arethrong'd  with  the  selfish  and  vile, 

That  gracelessly  pander  to  passion  and  pride, 
And  gloat  o'er  the  ruin  of  the  land  they  defile. 

But  justice  eternal  still  poises  the  scales, 
Though  rock'd  by  ambition  or  freighted  with  gold ; 

And,  throu'd  in  her  temple,  her  verdict  prevails 
To  smite  the  despoiler  with  curses  untold. 


62  A   CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

The  demagogue  brawls — supple  minions  encore, 
And  cudgels  rebound  from  undignified  Leads ; 

The  masses  are  inadden'd  from  mountain  to  shore, 
And  the  cordage  of  government's  torn  into  shreds. 

Spurning  counsels  and  cautions — blind,  reckless,  and 

bold- 
Fanatical  zealots  lash  on  the  affray ; 

And  case-harden'd  Shylocks  turn  blood  into  gold, 
While  God's  holy  altars  are  ravag'd  for  prey. 

Thus  fiercely  and  far  the  red  crusade  prevails, 
For  crush'd  constitutions  and  laws  rule  no  more  j 

'Mid  the  outcries  of  orphans  and  lone  widows'  wails, 
A  hungry  menagerie  riots  in  gore. 

War  !  war !  from  the  thunders  that  peal  at  her  gates  ; 

Lifts  high  her  portcullis  and  pours  out  her  hosts ; 
Far  North  and  far  South,  through  a  cordon  of  States, 

The  human  tornado  fills  Hades  with  ghosts. 

Hark !  hark !  'tis  our  bugle  that  sounds  to  the  field, 
And  our  yeomanry's  shouts  rend  the  air  as  they  go. 

On !  onward  they  rush,  without  helmet  or  shield — 
A  torrent  of  heroes,  to  bear  down  the  foe. 


THE  WAR.  63 

The  wild  roll  of  battle  now  echoes  afar, 

And  marshal'd  battalions  move  on  to  the  fray  ; 

Unleashed  from  their  collars,  the  bloodhounds  of  war 
Yelp  shrill  to  the  winds,  as  they  haste  to  their  prey. 

As  links  of  wrought  steel  they  are  leagued  against 

pow'r, 
And  strike  for  their  altars,  their  homes,  and  their 

lives  j 

The  storm-cloud  has  burst,  and  its  masses  still  low'r, 
Yet  high  floats  their  flag  where  the  fierce  tempest 
drives. 

Bold  columns  through  deep  mountain  gorges  are  fil'd, 

To  pour  like  an  avalanche  down  on  the  plain, 
Where  blood-sheeted  foes  are  in  pyramids  piM, 
"  And  the  vulture  and  eagle  are  gorg'd  on  the  slain. 

Thus  rolling  in  storm  over  forest  and  flood, 
The  gods  might  have  envied  the  chariot  of  Mars  j 

As  massacred  legions  are  bathing  in  blood, 
And  a  war-ravag'd  empire  smokes  to  the  stars. 

The  Genius  of  History,  pois'd  o'er  the  land 
Where  high  Southern  honor  defies  Northern  steel, 


64  A   CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

Selects  from  our  heroes  the  morally  grand, 
To  fix  on  their  brows  immortality's  seal. 

'Mid  the  ranks  of  young  Hectors  thus  wedded  to 

fame, 
Whose  names  are  enstarr'd  on  our  temple's  proud 

dome — 

One  beautiful  orb  its  position  shall  claim 
For  ages,  to  light  up  the  patriot's  home. 

He  was  born  for  his  country,  and,  plum'd  cap  and 

heel, 

Was  rock'd  by  the  storms  of  a  Texian  sky ; 
His  fiery  Caduceus  well  temper'd  steel 

Flashed  quick  as  the  lightning  when  foes  caught 
his  eye. 

A  patriot  father,  now  hoary  with  years, 
Had  lean'd   on    his  "Joseph,"  and  liv'd  in  his 
child ; 

The  patriarch  struggled — he  conquer'd  in  tears — 
Then  gave  him  to  God  and  his  country,  and  snril'd. 

Thus  he  mov'd  to  the  field  with  a  grandeur  of  soul 
That  startled  the  coward  and  cheer'd  on  the  brave ; 


THE  WAR.  65 

No  bribe  in  his  palm  and  no  wine  in  his  bowl — 
His  shield  was  his  conscience;  his  guerdon,  a  grave. 

He  stood  in  the  ranks  an  Achilles  in  form — 
Elastic  and  muscular,  graceful  and  large ; 

A  model  of  manhood  in  calm  or  in  storm, 
To  shine  in  the  Senate  or  tow'r  in  the  charge. 

The  throb  of  his  heart  was  the  pulse  of  his  men — 
The  flash  of  his  eye  was  their  beacon  in  fight ; 

He  dash'd  over  hilltop  or  bounded  through  fen 
With  the  plunge  of  the  lion  when  lambs  are  in  sight. 

At  Manassas  he  breasted  the  first  shock  of  war, 
Enroll'd  in  the  "  Stonewall"  immortal  brigade; 

He  flam'd  through  its  carnage,  led  on  by  his  star, 
And  sought  new  arenas  to  flesh  his  young  blade. 

That  star  hung  in  crimson,  portentous  and  pale, 
O'er  the  far  field  of  Sharpsburg,  the  soil  of  the  foe ; 

As  the  war-cry  of  squadrons  rang  loud  on  the  gale, 
And  troops  rolTd  in  columns  to  work  deeds  of  woe. 

In  stern,  gloomy  grandeur  our  columns  stood  still, 
Like  Etna's  proud  cone  when  his  thunders  are  near ; 
3** 


A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


Until  long-restrained  Vengeance  had  mastered  their 

will, 

And  burst  through  its  barriers,  in  quenchless  ca 
reer. 

From  heart-throbbing  thousands,  equipt  and  align'd, 
A  hail-storm  of  iron  in  fury  was  hurl'd, 

As  if  thunder,  volcano  and  earthquake  combin'd 
To  sink  a  dooni'd  nation  and  startle  the  world. 

'Twas  a  struggle  of  giants  that  sham'd  Homer's  gods, 
Who  flung  rifted  rocks  from  the  mountain's  torn 

side; 
Their  missiles  of  vengeance  but  green  trunks  and 

sods  — 
Mythological  pomp,  with  demoniac  pride. 

But  the  brow  of  our  hero  loom'd  lofty  and  grand, 
Like  Olympus  when  shaking  the  storm  from  his 
side, 

As,  with  saber  uprais'd  in  the  grasp  of  his  hand, 
And  pistol  unbelted,  whole  ranks  he  defied. 

With  a  shout  on  his  lip  and  a  blow  on  his  blade, 
Ho'  strode  over  ranks  of  the  dying  and  dead ; 


THE  WAR.  67 

His  phalanx  respond,  as  they  rush  to  his  aid, 
But  alas!  the  pale  star  from  its  heavens  had  fled  ! 

He  fell !     But  a  demon  unchainber'd  that  ball 
That  rifled  the  heart's-blood  of  virtue  and  truth — 

That  blighted  the  homestead  and  darken'd  the  hall 
Where  age  had  long  bask'd  in  the  smiles  of  his 
youth. 

But,  peaceful  and  pure,  and  in  sight  of  his  rest, 
His  soul  on  the  wing  for  its  crown  in  the  sky ; 

With  woman  to  weep  o'er  the  warrior's  breast, 
It  was  honor  and  triumph  and  glory,  TO  DEB  ! 

No  hearse  wav'd  its  ebony  plumes  o'er  the  dead ; 

No  pompous  procession  encircled  his  grave ; 
JJnknelM  and  uncoffin'd,  he  pillow'd  his  head 

On  the  soil  of  the  stranger  —  a  friend  to  the 
brave. 

O  God !  shall  despoilers  still  ravage  the  land, 
Unglutted  with  slaughter,  unsated  with  blood  ? 

Sure  virtue  must  triumph,  and  judgment  demand 
The  dark  day  of  vengeance — the  doomsday  of 
God! 


A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


Salvation  may  linger,  and  scourge  follow  scourge, 
Till  Moloch  and  Mammon  lie  prostrate  and  crush'd, 

But  the  nation  from  gloom  shall  to  glory  emerge, 
And  her  wild  wail  of  horror  forever  be  liusk'd. 

Then  sleep,  noble  son  of  a  God-trusting  sire ! 

Unstirr'd  by  the  tread  of  huge  caisson  or  gun ; 
Sleep !  sleep  with  thy  compeers  that  waded  through 
blood, 

Till  wak'd  to  the  fame  which  thy  virtues  have  won. 

Thy  country's  now  tipped  with  the  light  of  the  morn, 
And  the  nations  but  wait  for  the  full  flood  of  day ; 

Thy  name  shall  then  reach  generations  unborn, 
When  T.  PEESTON  SAMFOED  has  inolder'd  to  clay. 


SUPPLEMENT  TO  "  THE  WAR." 


Addressed  by  the  author  to  his  long  esteemed  friend  WILLIAM  F. 
SAMFOUD,  A.M.,  LL.D.,  of  Auburn,  Alabama  —  brotlier  of  Hie 
sainted  Preston. 

BUT  still  I  would  linger  to  hear  from  the  past 
The  echoes  which  Memory  rings  on  my  ears ; 

The  thoughts  which  they  stir  for  a  life-time  shall  last, 
When  the   heart-stricken   household  has  outliv'd 
its  tears. 

One  son  of  the  group  in  that  ancestral  home, 
The  wing'd  god  of  eloquence  richly  endow'd  j 

His  tongue  like  the  lightning  that  plays  round  the 

dome, 
And  heralds  the  thunder  that  rolls  from  the  cloud. 

In  life's  Mushing  morning  he  sat  at  my  board, 
Confiding  and  truthful  and  brilliant  and  strong ; 

Fresh  plum'd,  like  the  eaglet,  he  sported  and  soar'd, 
And  gaz'd  on  creation,  hi  rapture  and  song. 


70  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

There  patron  and  proteg6  knelt  at  one  shrine, 
And  heart  beat  to  heart  with  the  pendulum's 
truth ; 

That  virgin  affection  shall  never  decline, 
But  live  as  the  loves  of  Naomi  and  Euth. 

His  heaven-born  virtues  spurn'd  pagod  and  pelf, 
And  honor  unshorn  ruM  his  generous  breast; 

His  noble  young  heart  sought  a  duplicate  self : 
He  woo'd  and  he  won,  and  the  union  was  blest. 

A  pure,  lovely  matron  now  sits  by  his  side, 
The  queen  of  his  household  and  light  of  his  life ; 

The  mother  more  dear  than  the  beautiful  bride  — 
For  grief  finds  a  balm  in  the  smiles  of  a  wife. 

Three  decades  of  years  with  their  deeds  have  gone  by, 
And  millions  have  sunk  as  the  rain-drops  at  sea ; 

The  sage  and  the  stripling  in  common  dust  lie, 
But  "  William  "  and  friendship  survive  yet  for  me. 

Nay,  friendship's  too  formal  and  soulless  a  name 
For  the  deeper  and  richer  and  holier  grace 

That  burns  for  an  age  with  unquenchable  flame 
In  souls  that  unite  in  angelic  embrace. 


SUPPLEMENT  TO  "  THE  WAR. "  71 

Oh !  give  me  the  glory  of  midsummer  morn, 
Suffusing  the  hilltops  and  warming  the  vale  j 

And  leave  to  the  bats  and  the  owlets  forlorn, 
The  moon-lighted  landscape,  so  cold  and  so  pale. 

The  loves  of  the  angels  are  kindled  and  ton'd 
In  the  glow  of  the  Godhead  that  beams  from  their 
eyes, 

Where  day  without  night  is  in  splendor  enthrou'd, 
To  burn  on  forever  in  rose-tinted  skies. 


72  A   CLUSTER  OF  POEMS, 


RESPECTFULLY     DEDICATED,    BY    THE    AUTHOR,    TO     THAT    IMPORTANT 
AND  USEFUL    CLASS    OF   MEN,    RAILROAD    CONDUCTORS. 

WHEN  bards  long  ago  sang  the  ocean, 
And  mountain  and  river  and  plain, 

They  felt  not  the  thrilling  emotion 
Inspired  by  the  thundering  train. 

They  ne'er  heard  the  sound  of  the  whistle, 
And  steam  never  entered  their  brain ; 

They  lauded  the  "  rose  "  and  the  "  thistle," 
But  never  the  thundering  train. 

We  propose,  then,  in  grateful  ovation, 

An  humble,  pretensionless  strain ; 
And,  enthus'd  by  our  novel  vocation, 

Chant  praise  to  the  thundering  train. 

***** 
The  CONDUCTOR  leads  on  the  procession — 

The  lord  of  his  special  domain ; 


THE  TRAIN.  73 


No  claimant  disputes  his  possession — 
He  reigns  on  the  thundering  train. 

Neither  pageants  nor  levees  delay  him ; 

No  claims  are  allowed  to  detain ; 
The  prince  and  the  pauper  obey  him, 

While  ruling  his  thundering  tram. 

Though  the  fields  and  the  crops  are  in  danger 
From  drought,  or  from  down-pouring  rain, 

To  both  in  his  sphere  he's  a  stranger, 
Exempt,  on  his  thundering  train. 

Let  the  soldier  abandon  his  cottage, 
And  wade  through  the  bloody  campaign — 

His  fare  only  hoe-cake  or  pottage ; 
He  feasts  on  his  thundering  train. 

While  thousands  in  cities  are  dying, 
And  armies  are  counting  their  slain, 

With  free  ventilation  he's  flying, 
Unharm'd,  on  his  thundering  train. 

No  Blackstone  engrosses  his  vision — 
No  ledger  his  eyesight  to  strain ; 


74  A  CLUSTER   OF  POEMS. 

He  guards  against  breaks  and  collision, 
And  smiles  on  his  thundering  train. 

The  triumphs  that  crown  his  dominions, 
The  nabob  and  churl  may  disdain  j 

But,  heedless  of  captious  opinions, 
He's  king  on  the  thundering  train. 

He  rolls  over  valleys  and  fountains, 
And  skims  o'er  the  emerald  plain, 

Or  sweeps  through  the  gorges  of  mountains, 
O'erhangiug  his  thundering  train. 

His  engineer,  true  to  his  station, 
Stands  fronting  the  tempest  and  rain, 

To  guide  to  their  safe  destination 
The  crowds  on  the  thundering  train. 

Would  the  Cyclops  he  bridles  rush  faster  ? 

He  blusters  and  hisses  in  vain  ; 
For  he's  grasp'd  by  the  hand  of  a  master  ! 

And  smooth  rolls  the  thundering  train. 

He  stops  not  when  sunlight  is  closing, 
And  Venus  is  scepter'd  to  reign  ; 


THE  TRAIN.  75 


But  startles  the  dull  and  the  dozing 
By  the  roar  of  his  thundering  train. 

His  head-lights  are  ever  kept  burning — 
His  rear-beacon  shines  not  in  vain ; 

Thefirst  floods  the  track  at  each  turning, 
The  last  guards  the  thundering  train. 

Orion,  the  heavens  adorning, 
Looks  down  on  the  glimmering  plain, 

And  a  glance  from  the  Star  of  the  Morning 
Ulummes  his  thundering  train. 

He  scatters  the  wonders  of  science, 
To  national  commerce  germane ; 

And  to  lightning  and  storm  bids  defiance — 
All  safe  on  his  thundering  train. 

His  presence  enlivens  each  nation, 
Enlighten'd,  devout,  or  profane ; 

While  multitudes  crowd  ev'ry  station, 
To  welcome  his  thundering  train. 

He  carries  the  Cross  and  its  story 
To  heathen  beyond  the  deep  main; 


76  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

And  heralds  its  forthcoming  glory, 
On  board  of  his  thundering  train. 

Thus  kingdoms  and  peoples,  united 
By  brotherhood's  magical  chain, 

Whose  lands  the  Conductor  has  lighted, 
Shall  shout  to  the  thundering  tram. 

When  the  nations,  in  harmony  blended, 
Shall  hail  the  millennial  reign, 

And  Messiah  to  earth  has  descended — 
Farewett  to  the  THUNDERING  TKAIN  ! 


THE  TRIUMPH  OF  JOSEPH.  77 


h 

BEFOEE  THE  COURT  OF  THE  EGYPTIAN  KING. 


YON  chariot  is  rolling  in  state  ! 

Young  Joseph,  the  friend  of  the  king, 
Sits  vestured  in  robes  of  the  great — . 

On  his  finger  the  royal  gold  ring. 

O'er  his  virtuous  bosom  descends 

A  circle  of  Ophir's  pure  ore ; 
While  the  shout  of  the  criers  ascends, 

And  thousands  are  bowing  before. 

King  Phar'oh  thus  honors  the  youth 
Whose  purity  shone  as  the  sun  j 

Whose  modesty,  wisdom  and  truth, 
The  monarch's  high  confidence  won. 

All  Egypt  exults  in  his  reign, 
While  famine  and  pestilence  fly ; 

And  her  storehouses,  groaning  with  grain, 
Yield  Canaan  itself  a  supply. 


78  A    CLUSTER   OF  POEMS. 


How  proudly  the  peak  of  yon  mountain 
Looks  down  from  the  arch  of  the  sky, 

As  in  grandeur  it  shadows  the  fountain 
That  sports  through  its  cliffs  upon  high  I 

The  soft  silver  light  of  the  morning 

Encircles  its  emerald  brow, 
Ere  the  peasant  by  chanticleer's  warning 

Is  roused,  at  its  base,  to  the  plow. 

It  stands  in  its  lofty  seclusion, 

Where  sunshine  and  peace  ever  reign ; 

Far,  far  from  the  gloom  and  confusion, 
That  checker  the  populous  plain. 

As  the  lion  the  dew  from  his  shoulder, 
It  shakes  the  wild  storm  from  its  side ; 

While  below,  where  the  torrent  grows  bolder, 
Whole  flocks  are  entomb'd  in  the  tide. 


THE  MOUNT  OF  HOLINESS.  79 

Thus  throu'd  oil  the  heights  of  devotion — 
Sublime  in  their  hallowing  glow — 

The  Christian  transcends  the  commotion 
That  rocks  the  whole  region  below. 

When  Sorrow  her  storm-cloud  has  driv'n, 
And  deep  moral  darkness  abounds, 

He  bathes  in  the  sunlight  of  Heav'n, 
And  smiles  on  the  gloom  that  surrounds. 

Absorbed  in  the  rapturous  vision 
That  catches  his  heavenward  eye, 

He  heeds  not  the  whirl  and  collision 
Of  crowds  that  are  hurrying  by. 

Secure  in  his  bright  elevation, 
He  feels,  but  as  mist  from  the  cloud, 

The  sweep  of  that  vast  inundation 
That  whelms  the  licentious  crowd. 

Thence,  thence  let  me  meet  the  Eternal, 

And  reign  above  fire  and  flood ! 
Enciuctur'd  with  beauties  supernal, 

And  crown'd  with  the  glory  of  God. 


80  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


(FOR  HIS  WIFE.) 

Written  by  the  author  when  fur  from  home,  on  Valentine's  Day,  February  11,  1851. 

DEAR  •wife  of  my  bosom  !  when,  youthful  and  gay, 
We  met  on  the  eve  of  our  bright  wedding  day, 
In  the  blush  of  young  beauty  you  stood  by  my  side, 
And  my  heart  hail'd  with  rapture  its  lovely  young 
bride. 

But  twenty-four  summers  have  since  rolM  away, 
And  the  glossy  brown  locks  have  been  soften'd  to 

gray; 

A  staid,  cheerful  mother  now  sits  by  my  side — 
The  matron  more  lov'd  than  the  beautiful  bride. 


THE  BALLOON'S  ASCENSION.  81 


THE  plain  of  the  grand  Champs  de  Mars  is  alive, 
And  Paris  her  thousands  pours  out  to  the  sight, 

As  bees  rush  hi  columns,  deserting  then?  hives, 
And  cluster  in  swarms  round  the  queen  in  her 
flight. 

A  mammoth  balloon  hangs  suspended  in  air, 
Collaps'd,  uninflatod,  and  cabled  to  earth  ; 

The  gas-tubes  disgorge — human  multitudes  stare — 
And  the  first  inspiration  proclaims  a  new  birth. 

The  beautiful  globe,  as  it  breathes,  swells  apace, 
Enlarges,  and  rises  till  rotund  in  form  ; 

Then  struggles  to  sever  the  cords  at  its  base, 
To  bathe  in  the  sunlight  above  cloud  and  storm. 

But,  bound  and  engirdled,  its  essays  are  vain, 

Till  the  master  balloonist  has  sever'd  its  ties  j 
Then,  loos'd  from  its  moorings,  it  mounts  from  the 

plain, 

And  buoyant  and  towering  steers  for  the  skies. 
4* 


82  A   CLUSTER   OF  POEMS. 


Thus,  grand  though  its  outline,  the  Soul  lingers  here. 
Contracted  and  crush'd  in  Satanic  embrace ; 

Nor  claims  its  Elysium,  nor  soars  to  its  sphere, 
Till  expanded  and  volum'd  and  buoyant  by  grace. 

Then,  spurning  its  captor,  but  biding  its  time, 
It  swells  toward  heaven,  impatient  to  rise, 

Till  the  blow  of  release  from  the  Master  Sublime 
Unprisous  the  captive  with  gladd'niug  surprise. 

Then,  free  as  the  air,  to  the  regions  of  light, 
Elastic  and  soaring,  it  leaves  the  world's  gaze ; 

No  sweep  of  the  telescope  follows  its  flight, 
Engirt  by  the  Godhead  and  lost  in  its  blaze. 


THE  NO  A  CHI  AN  DEL  UGE.  83 


IN  you  blue  deep  where  float,  in  boundlessness 
Bemote,  the  millionary  orbs  of  heaven — 
Grand  epochs,  congruous  with  th'  eternal  plans — 
In  long,  long  cycles  of  returning  years 
Attend  the  presence  of  the  reigning  God. 

Eevolving  centuries  chime  their  grand  events 
Throughout  the  mighty  frame- work  of  the  skies, 
Where  solar  centers  move  their  trains  of  worlds, 
And  suns  and  satellites  in  dazzling  pomp 
Their  gorgeous  systems  wheel  through  space  pro 
found  ; 

Creation's  glowing  frontier  coasting  far, 
And  blending  revolutions  vast,  sublime, 
In  starry  poise  upon  one  awful  point  I 
That  point,  the  glory  of  the  Milky  Zone — 
Great  Maedler's  focal  universe* — perhaps 


*  The  distinguished  German  astronomer,  Maedler,  has,  by  along  and 
laborious  course  of  investigation,  discovered — as  he  believes — what  we 
have  long  regarded  as  existing  somewhere  in  space,  viz.,  the  stupen 
dous  stationary  central  system,  about  which  all  the  solar  systems  in 
tlie  stellar  universe  are  supposed  to  revolve,  in  long  cycles  of  centuries. 


84  A   CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

The  council-chamber  of  the  King  of  kings, 
Shekinah's  lofty  antitype,  where  God 
Is  seen,  amid  the  cherubim  enthroned, 
And  Nature's  starlit  temple  spreads  its  dome, 
To  gather  incense  from  ten  thousand  shrines. 

O  fathomless  abyss  of  wonders  new ! 
Where  thought  adventurous  reels,  and  shuns  the  gaze, 
Shrinks  back  to  earth,  and  on  her  planet-home 
Finds  more  than  scope  to  try  her  loftiest  pow'rs. 
And  yet  that  home,  among  the  works  of  God 
How  small !    A  ray — a  pale,  a  lonely  ray — 
Amid  th'  effulgence  of  the  blazing  skies  ! 
Still,  still  this  minim  orb,  by  birthright  ours, 
To  finite  minds  outspreads  phenomena 
Of  startling  grandeur — staggering  hoary  faith, 
Confounding  reason  and  o'erwhelming  thought. 

The  EARTH  then  be  our  theme :  one  grand  event 
In  all  her  time-worn  history  enough 
To  crowd  the  present  hour. 

Age  after  age, 

Her  scath'd  and  rugged  form  had  proudly  borne 
The  dread  catastrophes  which  rudely  grav'd 


THE  NO  A  CHI  AN  DEL  UGE.  85 

Their  petty  triumphs  on  her  marble  hills  j 
But  still  she  stood  to  bide  her  future  woes. 

Of  changes  wrought  by  deep  convulsive  throes 
Wide  propagated  from  her  burning  heart* — 
Unbedding  seas,  upheaving  continents, 
Submerging  mountain-chains  in  ocean  deeps, 
And  cleaving  chasms  for  her  frighten'd  floods  t — 
While,  bursting  from  her  swoll'n  and  ruptur'd  veins 
Three  hundred  rivers  pour,  of  liquid  fire,$ 
To  blight  the  land  and  waste  the  fuming  seas. 
Of  these  we  nothing  say :  'tis  ours  to  mark 
One  scene — one  dismal  scene — where  Vengeance  rul'd, 
And  guilty  millions  met  their  changeless  doom. 

MAN — rebel  man — had  spurn'dthe  reign  of  Heaven, 
And  fiercely  rush'd  to  scenes  of  lust  and  blood. 


*  Tho  well  sustained  doctrine  of  the  earth's  interior  or  central  heat 
is  here  recognized. 

t  These  geological  changes  have  actually  taken  place,  and  their  con 
sequent  phenomena  are  plainly  recorded  among  the  mountain  up 
heavals,  disrupted  strata,  and  fossil  and  mineral  deposits  of  our  globe. 

t  The  largest  estimated  number  of  active  volcanoes  now  upon  the 
earth's  surface. 


86  A   CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

A  godless  progeny,  in  lapse  of  years, 

Wide  spread  the  infecting  curse,  till,  steep'd  in  sin, 

The  drunken  nations  toppled  o'er  the  abyss 

Which  flaming  Justice  opened  at  their  feet. 

Retiring  Mercy  dropp'd  the  final  tear, 

And  exiled  Virtue  sought  her  native  skies. 

One  aged  sire,  of  all  the  abandoned  throng, 
Still  worshiped  God,  and  kept  His  altars  pure. 
Six  hundred  years  had  wreathed  his  noble  brow 
With  fleecy  honors,  and  his  faithful  voice 
For  five  score  past  had  waru'd  his  wayward  race. 
The  faithful  few  whose  beacon  lights  had  shone 
In  lonely  luster  'mid  the  moral  gloom 
Were  gone,  and  Vengeance  hurried  to  her  work. 
Old  Lamech  clos'd  his  eyes  in  peace — and,  lastj 
The  hoary-hair'd  Methuselah,  worn  down 
With  pious  labors  of  a  thousand  years, 
Was  call'd  to  rest,  to  shun  the  gath'ring  storm. 
The  stage  was  clear ;  then  why  should  judgment 

sleep, 

Perdition  linger,  or  fierce  wrath  delay  ? 
They  did  not  sleep,  nor  linger,  nor  delay. 
Earth,  lab'ring  to  her  trembling  poles,  seeinW  task'd 
To  evolve  the  Almighty's  desolating  curse. 


THE  NOACHIAN  DELUGE.  87 

But  let  us  rise  to  Contemplation's  heights, 
And  gaze  across  the  gulf  of  ages  past, 
To  realize  the  horrors  of  the  scene. 

****** 

Behold,  how  calm  the  earth !  how  still  the  seas ! 
Portentous  silence  reigns ;  while  far  and  wide 
The  dreamy  air  seems  bound  in  Lethean  spell, 
And  nature's  breathing  hosts  no  change  suspect. 
?Tis  morning's  dewy  hour.    The  god  of  day 
On  noiseless  wheel  mounts  up  the  steep  of  heaven, 
And  sheds  his  purple  beams  o'er  lake  and  hill. 
Above,  below,  around,  creation's  hush'd, 
As  if  in  dread  presentiment  of  doom. 
A  pause — an  awful  pause ! — foretokens  ruin. 

But  hark !    A  distant  hum  disturbs  the  air  j 
Earth's  stirring  thousands  swell  the  echoing  din, 
Nor  mark  pale  nature's  signals  in  the  skies, 
Her  deathlike  stillness  and  her  pulseless  frame. 
The  thoughtless  sons  of  fashion  hurry  by, 
To  feast  and  dance — alas !  their  final  hour. 
The  worldly  merchant  lauds  his  wares,  and  boasts 
The  yearly  gains  his  practic'd  skill  insures. 
The  plodding  peasant  goads  his  lazy  team, 
And  counts  his  golden  harvest  in  advance ; 


88  A    CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

While  bloated  debauchees  abhor  the  light, 
And,  lock'd  in  guilty  arms,  provoke  their  fate. 

No  eye  is  heavenward.    Lust  and  Mammon  rage, 
And  reeking  Passion,  stooping  o'er  the  mane, 
With  sounding  lash  and  rowels  dipp'd  in  blood, 
Still  plies  his  smoking  steed  and  braves  his  doom ; 
While  gory  Murder — fiercest  of  his  train — 
Snuffs  th'  infected  air,  and  madly  waves 
Ilis  crimson  poniard  as  he  posts  to  hell. 
Oh !  fearful  prelude  to  the  impending  curse ! 
Dread  spectacle !    A  WOKLD  WITHOUT  A  GOD  ! 

But  mark  the  darkening  heavens,  the  fiery  sun, 
The  rolling  vapors,  and  the  deep'ning  storm  ! 
Egyptian  blackness  shrouds  the  morning  skies, 
And  raking  whirlwinds  run  their  wild  career ! 
Eed  bolts  leap  thick  from  clouds  surcharged  with 

death ! 

Loud  herald  thunders  ring  the  nations'  knell, 
And  earth  "  gives  signs  of  woe  that  all  is  lost." 
The  deafening  clarion  of  the  world- wide  storm 
Awakes  the  angry  deep.    Then,  palsy-struck, 
The  shudd'ring  globe  upon  its  axis  halts  ; 
And  hoary  ocean,  restless  in  his  bed, 


THE  NOACHIAN  DELUGE. 


Uplifts  his  giant  form  to  Alpine  height ; 
And,  gathering  mightier  strength,  from  pole  to  pole 
Eolls  coastward  all  his  world  of  waves,  and  swells 
The  wild  uproar  of  struggling  elements ; 
Then  dashing  on,  with  fearful  shock  assails 
His  granite  barriers  of  two  thousand  years, 
O'erpluuges  far  their  pigmy  heights,  and  whelms 
In  wat'ry  woe  the  fouuder'd  continents.* 

Old  Etna  groans,  and  hisses  from  his  caves, 
To  spurn  the  intruding  tides  that  climb  his  steeps 
And  dare  his  dismal  flames.    Wild  waters  plunge 
In  frightful  fury  down  his  furnace  throat. 
He  heaves  amain ;  his  red  foundations  rock ; 


*  Infidelity  oiicc  carped  about  the  impossibility  of  submerging  the 
highest  mountains  with  the  amount  of  water  contained  in  all  tho 
oceans  and  seas  of  our  globe  ;  and  therefore  affected  to  ridicule  the 
Mosaic  account  of  the  Deluge.  This  point,  however,  has  been  long 
since  settled,  by  calculations  made  upon  safe  data,  in  favor  of  the  di 
vine  historian.  Tho  author  has  here  conjectured,  that  as  the  fluids  and 
solids  of  our  globe,  by  uniform  velocity  of  revolution,  had  acquired  a 
common  "  motal  inertia,"  it  was  only  necessary  for  the  Divine  fiat  to 
check  for  a  moment  the  usual  speed  of  its  diurnal  movement ;  and, 
as  the  waters  were  mobile,  and  could  not  immediately  accommodate 
themselves  to  tho  sudden  change  of  inertia  in  tho  solids,  the  inevitable 
result  would  be  the  outbreak  of  oceans,  seas  and  lakes  over  their  re 
spective  barriers,  and  the  consequent  submergence  of  continents :  a 
physical  result  readily  illustrated  by  the  plunge  of  a  fluid  over  the  lip 
of  a  containing  vessel  which  has  been  suddenly  stopped  when  in  the 
midst  of  a  uniform  and  brisk  motion. 
4.** 


90  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

And  hot  disgorging  from  his  molten  deeps 
Whole  cataracts  of  tire,  he  madly  spouts 
The  boiling  seas  to  drench  th'  astonish'd  skies, 
Vesuvius  too  makes  battle  with  the  deep, 
And  flood  and  fire  contend  for  mastery. 

Toinboro,*  thund'ring  till  his  roar  is  heard 
Three  hundred  leagues,  confronts  the  ocean-shock ; 
And,  like  a  boa  scotch'd  and  nursing  wrath, 
In  forked  fury  shoots  out  tongues  of  fire. 

Fierce  Hecla  frowns,  and  from  his  crater  rolls 
Portentous  smoke  in  volumes  through  the  air  j 
But  feels  his  lurid  throne  profoundly  quake, 
As  revolutionary  waves — asleep 
For  twenty  centuries  at  his  rock-bound  base — 
O'erleap  his  bulwarks  and  ascend  his  heights. 


*  A  volcanic  mountain  in  Sumbawa,  one  of  the  islands  of  the 
Grecian  Archipelago,  from  which  one  of  the  most  fearful  eruptions  re 
corded  in  history  took  place,  commencing  on  the  5th  of  April,  1815, 
and  continuing  until  July  following ;  the  explosions  being  heard  to 
the  distance  of  960  geographical  miles  in  one  direction  and  720  in  the 
opposite  ;  overwhelming  the  island  with  blazing  lava,  volcanic  tufa 
and  ashes,  leaving  only  20  survivors  out  of  a  population  of  12,000,  and 
disgorging  from  its  crater  solid  material  enough  to  form  a  globe  six 
miles  in  diameter. 


THE  NOACHIAN  DELUGE.  91 

Deep,  sinuous  mountain  gorges  madly  foam 
With  pent-up  seas,  impatient  of  restraint, 
And  new-born  gulfs  are  cradled  in  the  clouds. 
Sea-monsters,  from  their  briny  homes  afar, 
Float  buoyant  over  Andes'  proudest  peaks, 
And  gambol  in  the  floods  'twixt  earth  and  heaven  j 
While  currents  sweep  in  vast  gyrations  round, 
And  furious  maelstroms  whirl  with  deaf 'uiug  roar, 
Till,  loosened  from  their  icy  beds  on  high, 
Huge  avalanches,  tumbling  headlong  down, 
Are  in  the  mighty  vortices  engorged. 

O  God  of  grandeur !  who  shall  sketch  the  scene, 
When  outrag'd  justice  stirs  th'  Eternal  arm 
To  signalize  its  pow'r  in  judgment  pomp? 


Behold  how  wide  stern  desolation  reigns  ! 
Confounded  crowds  of  staring  skeptics  fly 
In  dripping  garments  from  the  vengeful  floods, 
As,  pouring  fast,  they  rise  to  loftier  heights. 
Old  age  is  there — grown  lank  and  gray  in  sin — 
But  eschews  still  to  die  ;  and  clamb'ring  slow, 
With  crutch  and  crippled  gait,  seeks  neighb'ring 
mounds, 


92  A   CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

In  vain  attempt  to  escape  its  stormy  doom. 
Soft  infancy  is  there,  and,  rudely  torn 
In  shiv'ring  terror  from  the  parent  breast, 
Sinks  down  asphyctic  in  the  yawning  seas. 

The  deluge  grows  till  mountains,  undermin'd 
And  nodding  to  their  heaving  base,  are  seen 
With  thundering  plunge  engulPd  to  rise  no  more! 
Ten  thousand  whirlpools  float  their  millions  by, 
With  arms  outstretch'd  for  help.    Their  piercing 

shrieks 

But  swell  the  bellowings  of  the  angry  seas ; 
While  cities,  bowed  beneath  the  briny  scourge, 
Disgorge  their  drowning  throngs  —  then  sink  en- 

tomb'd. 

Each  lofty  pinnacle  that  longest  braves 
The  grand  debacle  in  its  upward  swoop, 
Hangs  clustered  thick  with  crowds  of  human  forms, 
Transfix'd  with  horror,  as  the  lawless  waves 
In  tow'riug  vengeance  lash  their  tottering  feet. 

O  God  !  the  hour  has  come !    One  moment  more, 
A.nd  all  is  gone!    The  last  lone  cliff  is  reach 'd — 
A  final  breaker  laves  the  screaming  groups — 


THE  NO  A  CHI  AN  DEL  UGE.  93 

The  monarch  mountain  of  a  thousand  peaks 
Succumbs !   PROUD  EVEREST*  is  SEEN  NO  MORE  ! 

****** 
Far  eastward  t  rolls  th'  impetuous,  stormy  tide, 
Till  oceans,  seas  and  lakes  in  solemn  league 
Their  billows  blend,  and,  compassing  the  zones, 
With  liquid  winding-sheet  invest  the  globe. 
The  EARTH  is  all  a  TOMB,  and  judgment's  sealed/ 

****** 
But  see !    There  floats  upon  the  blue  expanse, 
In  dubious  shape,  a  dim  and  distant  thing  ! 
In  passive  mood  it  yields  to  warring  waves, 
Then  mounts  their  crests,  and  hovers  in  the  air. 
It  nears  apace  !  and,  hurried  by  the  winds, 
To  bold  dimensions  grows !    Now  full  reveal'd — 


*  Mount  Everest,  in  the  Himalaya  range,  is  now  regarded  the  loftiest 
mountain  summit  on  the  earth,  being  29,002  feet  (nearly  5 J  miles)  above 
the  level  of  the  sea. 

t  The  revolution  of  the  earth  upon  its  axis  being  from  -west  to  east, 
a  sudden  suspension  of  its  motion  would  precipitate  the  inundating 
waters  over  their  respective  boundaries  iu  that  direction,  so  that  the 
western  continent  of  North  and  South  America  would  bo  first  sub 
merged  by  the  waves  of  the  Northern  and  Southern  Pacific  ;  Europe, 
Northern  Asia,  and  Northern  Africa,  by  the  Northern  Atlantic ;  Mid 
dle  and  Southern  Asia  by  the  Mediterranean,  Bed  Sea,  Sea  of  Arabia, 
and  Bay  of  Bengal ;  and  New  Holland  and  the  East  India  Islands  by 
the  Indian  Ocean,  &c. ;  interestingly  corresponding— especially  in  the 
Northern  Hemisphere,  where  most  geological  examinations  have  been 
made— to  the  lino  of  direction  along  which  the  erratic  rocks  of  Europe 
and  the  bowlders  of  the  United  States  have  been  evidently  borne  by 
some  great  flood  of  waters  from  their  original  beds. 


94  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

A  massive  pile — it  moves  in  kingly  state, 
High  booming  o'er  the  fathomless  abyss ! 

Amid  the  opening  sunshine,  and  the  storm 
Now  rolling  back  to  leave  the  floods  at  rest, 
A  gorgeous  rainbow  spans  its  lofty  brow, 
Enthron'd  in  splendor  on  the  bending  skies  ! 
On !  onward  still  it  drives  o'er  deeps  profound — 
O'er  Alps'  and  Apennines'  and  Andes'  peaks — 
Nor  stoops  to  own  the  grandeur  of  their  rank. 
A  patriarchal  palace  stands  confess'd — 
The  mammoth  wonder  of  a  world  iuhum'd — 
Surcharg'd  with  life,  to  stock  a  world  to  come ! 

Nor  helm  nor  compass  steers  the  steady  prow. 
Supernal  Wisdom  guides  its  bold  career  j 
For  Noah's  household  rides  upon  the  seas, 
Encircled  by  the  promise  of  his  God ! 

Float  on,  immortal  voyager !  thy  faith, 
Fast  anchor'd  by  the  Eternal  throne,  controls 
The  Godhead's  pledg'd  and  boundless  pow'r  5  and  when 
The  fissur'd  earth  shall  swallow  up  her  seas, 
And  liberated  mountains  peer  again 
Above  the  rausom'd  plains,  thou  still  shalt  live, 
The  godly  sire  of  millions  yet  unborn  ! 


SACRED  LOCALITIES  IN  PALESTINE.  U5 


READ    BEFORE    THE    OXFORD    SUNDAY   SCHOOL. 

EVER  liallow'd  on  earth  are  the  spots  that  were  trod 
By  the  feet  of  Messiah,  the  crown'd  Son  of  God. 
As  landmarks  they  stand  on  the  highway  of  years, 
To  move  passing  millions  to  smiles  and  to  tears. 

Old  Palestine,  wasted,  these  trophies  still  boasts, 
That  shine  on  her  hilltops  and  speak  from  her  coasts. 
No  ruin  can  blast  them,  no  power  entomb ; 
Their  beacons  shall  burn  till  the  morning  of  doom. 

The  deeds  of  the  past  rise  again  to  the  eye, 
As  the  grand  panorama  rolls  silently  by, 
All  radiant  with  scenes  that  enrapture  the  soul, 
And  shall  light  up  the  heav'ns  when  the  last  thunders 
roU. 
****** 

Mount  Zion's  hoar  brow  monumentally  looms 
Over  decades  of  ages,  and  kingdoms  and  tombs 


96  A   CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

Once  lustrous  with  glories  by  God's  temple  giv'n, 
Now  shorn  of  her  splendors,  but  pointing  to  heaven. 

Dear  Olivet  still  courts  the  sun  as  he  shines 

O'er  her  green  grassy  slopes,  and  her  figs  and  her 

vines; 

Unchalleng'd  she  wears  all  her  honors  alone — 
For  a  cloud  from  her  brow  bore  the  Lord  to  his 

throne. 

Let  us  weep  over  Bethany — name  ever  sweet, 
Euphonious  and  dear !  — in  its  lowly  retreat j 
For  its  glory  is  gone ;  not  a  vestige  remains, 
Save  the  halo  which  history  sheds  o'er  its  plains. 

Blest  Lake  of  the  Hills,  ever  lov'd  Galilee ! 
Thy  shores  and  thy  waters  are  dearest  to  me. 
In  childhood  thy  stories  were  grav'd  on  my  heart 
As  intaglios  on  marble,  enchisel'd  by  art. 

For  thy  bright,  limpid  wavelets  once  nurs'd  the  Man- 

God, 

And  rock'd  Him  to  rest  on  their  soft  swelling  flood ; 
And  when  wild  Euroclydon  rush'd  from  his  caves, 
And  lash'd  into  madness  thy  foam-crested  waves, 


SACRED  LOCALITIES  IN  PALESTINE.  97 

At  a  word  from  His  lips,  and  a  glance  from  His  eye, 
Fled  the  dark  howling  tempest  in  silence  to  die ; 
And  thy  poor  throbbing  bosom  pulsated  no  more, 
But  fondly  embrac'd  Him  and  bore  Him  to  shore. 

Little  Bethlehem's  heights  rest  in  peace  as  of  yore, 
But  her  "  star"  and  her  "  manger"  are  long  since  no 

more. 
There  the  great  Shepherd-King  saw  his  first  light  of 

morn  ; 
There  his  antitype,  Christ,  for  the  nations  was  born. 

O'er  her  midnight  an  angelic  anthem  rolM  high, 
And  the  song  of  salvation  first  rang  through  the  sky. 
In  her  bosom  she  cradled  the  world's  infant  Lord, 
And  sheltered  His  manhood,  and  bow'd  and  adorM. 

To  the  ear  of  the  stranger  no  echo  resounds ; 
Her  streets  lie  neglected,  and  silence  surrounds ; 
Still  the  Judean  mountains  o'erhang  her  west  line, 
And  their  steep,  terrac'd  sides  nurse  the  olive  and 
vine. 

Though  dismantled  and  peel'd,  and  inglorious  now, 
Immortality's  seal  has  been  fixed  on  her  brow  ; 
5 


98  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

And  she  bides  but  her  time,  till  her  offspring  again 
Shall  revisit  His  birthplace,  in  glory  to  reign. 

When  the  "  Eed  Cross  "  has  conquerM,  and  hell's  in 

despair, 

And  the  angel  of  doom  sounds  his  blast  on  the  air ; 
When  the   sleeping   redeem'd  shall  the   summons 

obey, 
And  shall  muster  by  millions  to  hail  the  Great  Day— 

As  the  down-pouring  legions  of  bliss  greet  the  earth, 
And  Bethlehem  points  to  her  manger  and  birth, 
Angelic  hosaunas  shall  roll  o'er  her  plains, 
And  the  broad  empyrean  resound  with  the  strains. 

But  peace,  joy  and  beauty  are  transient  from  birth, 
For  bliss  must  be  follow'd  by  blight  upon  earth. 
Dread  contrast !  when  brightness  and  loveliness  fly, 
And  yield  up  their  reign,  amid  darkness  to  die. 

Thus  o'er  the  brook  Kedron  Gethsemane  shone 
When  her  garden  ernbower'd  her  Lord  all  alone ; 
But  estranged  and  forlorn,  as  she  now  strikes  the 

sight, 
She  seems  left  to  mourn  o'er  His  last  dismal  night. 


SACRED  LOCALITIES  IN  PALESTINE.  99 

But  peerless  on  earth  is  the  last  spot  we  name, 
Where  the  focaliz'd  vengeance  of  hell  shot  its  flame  ; 
Where  darkness  at  noonday,  and   earthquake  and 

blood, 
Proclaim'd  human  bliss,  and  the  reign  of  a  God. 

The  fame  of  these  triumphs  old  Calvary  won, 
And  honored  her  God  through  His  conquering  Son ; 
While  her  Cross  shall  still  live  in  the  mem'ries  of 

heaven, 
And  homage  divine  to  its  Victim  be  given. 

Like  sculptur'd  mausolea  rear'd  in  the  East, 
To  hand  down  the  fame  of  their  heroes  deceas'd, 
These  evergreen  landmarks  shall  tow'r  over  tombs. 
To  eternize  the  scenes  which  the  Cross  still  illumes. 


100  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


How  sweet  are  the  notes  which  the  song-bird  sings, 
From  his  perch  in  his  wire-bound  cell ! 

How  plaintive  his  strain  through  the  parlor  rings, 
Like  the  tones  of  a  silver  bell ! 

The  sunshine  streams  through  his  lattic'd  cage, 

And  the  wild  winds  fan  his  breast ; 
He  longs  for  the  mate  of  his  fledgeling  age, 

And  carols  himself  to  rest ! 

All  is  lonely  and  still  as  the  night  rolls  by ; 

And  he  hangs  on  the  time-worn  wall 
Till  the  day -beams  shoot  from  the  morning  sky 

And  blaze  through  the  old  oak  hall. 

Through  his  homely  wicket  the  day  peers  in, 

And  reveals  no  barrier  there ; 
For  his  keep — not  closed  by  a  bolt  or  pin — 

Stands  wide  to  the  balmy  air. 

Arous'd  from  his  dreams  with  a  scream  and  spring, 
He  bursts  from  his  long  night's  tomb  ; 


THE  SONG-BIRD  UNCAGED.  101 

With  a  hymn  on  his  tongue  and  the  dew  on  his  whig, 
He  escapes  to  his  mountain  home. 

Thus  away  from  the  realms  of  perennial  day, 

And  the  land  of  the  pure  and  blest, 
The  soul  looks  out  from  its  lodge  of  clay, 

And  longs  for  its  endless  rest. 

When  its  skies  are  aglow  with  the  Godhead's  rays, 
'Tis  in  vain  that  the  chill  wind  blows  j 

It  exults  in  the  prospect  of  balmier  days, 
And  sinks  into  holy  repose. 

Now  the  night  steals  on — the  relentless  night 

Of  the  lonely  and  lifeless  tomb — 
Where  a  star  burns  not,  nor  a  glow-worm's  light 

Ever  gleams  on  the  dismal  gloom. 

But  a  prince  sleeps  there,  and  the  death-king  flies 

From  the  courts  of  his  ghostly  reign, 
As  the  last  sun  purples  the  eastern  skies, 

And  the  life-pulse  bounds  again. 

A  monarch  springs  from  the  conquer'd  tomb, 

And  ascends  to  his  throne  on  high ; 
And  as  angel  millions  escort  him  home, 

Hallelujahs  rend  the  sky. 


102  A    CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


ELEGY    ON 


A.  Tribute  of  Affection  from  his  Grandfather,  the  Author. 

OUR  sweet  little  cherub,  farewell  !  farewell  ! 

Thou  hast  fled  in  the  morn  of  life  ; 
Soon  plum'd  for  heaven,  and  too  bright  to  dwell 

In  this  world  of  sin  and  strife. 

But  sudden  and  loud  as  the  thunder-shock 

To  the  sinking  lamb  in  the  fold, 
While  the  helpless,  frightened  and  flying  flock 

Its  motionless  form  behold, 

Was  the  stunning  call  from  the  angel  world, 

That  sunder'd  the  ties  of  earth, 
Which  in  four  short  years  had  their  spirals  curl'd 

Bound  the  hearts  that  gave  them  birth. 

But  the  deed  is  done,  and  our  treasure's  gone  ! 
'Twas  a  loan  from  heaven,  at  best  ; 


•Accidentally  shot,  fit  four  years  of  a.'to,  in  Oxford,  Ga. 


CHARLES  MEMINGER  CAPERS.  103 

The  "  Father  of  Lights  "  has  but  claim'd  His  own, 
And  "  our  Charlie  "  has  gone  to  rest. 

On  that  cold,  pale  forehead,  in  silence  now 

Shine  the  traces  of  innocence  blest  5 
Like  the  sun's  last  rays  on  an  iceberg's  brow, 

Ere  it  sinks  to  its  deep-sea  rest. 

But  oh  !  the  sighs  and  the  groans  and  tears 

That  circle  the  old  hearthstone, 
Where  his  sparkling  eye,  in  those  happy  years, 

Had  but  brighter  and  brighter  shone ! 

How  lonely  and  still  are  the  childish  toys 

That  lie  on  the  shelf  and  floor ! — 
The  sadd'uing  mementoes  of  guileless  joys 

Never,  never  to  gladden  us  more. 

gto 

But  alas !  they  linger  here  in  vain ; 

The  spirit  that  charm'd  them 's  fled ; 
And  our  hearts  shall  yearn  till  they  meet  him  again, 

With  a  starry  crown  on  his  head. 

Enroll'd  for  the  courts  of  a  cloudless  reign, 
Let  the  infantile  prince  sleep  on, 


104  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

Till  the  angel  herald  returns  again, 
When  the  gloom  of  the  grave  is  gone. 

Then  the  virgin  spirit  shall  come  in  light, 

With  eternal  youth  its  boon, 
To  ennoble  the  dust  which  we  hide  from  sight 

Till  it  shines  in  the  blaze  of  noon. 

Then  hush  forever  the  murmuring  tongue ! 

For  the  morning  of  joy  shall  come, 
And  the  family  harp  shall  again,  restrung, 

Resound  in  our  heavenly  home. 


THE  WORLD  WITHOUT  AND  WITHIN.         105 


THE 


BOTH    SEEKING    REPOSE. 

THROUGH  all  the  vast  domain  of  earth  and  of  oceans, 
All  nature  submits  to  high  Heaven's  behest. 

Her  fearful  and  wild  elemental  commotions 
Are  but  struggles  prelusive  of  ultimate  rest. 

The  solid  earth  trembles — whole  continents  rocking 
With  gases  elastic  pent  up  in  her  breast  — 

Till  the  heaving  volcano,  all  barriers  mocking, 
Disgorges  its  fires,  and  the  globe  is  at  rest. 

The  atmosphere,  toss'd  by  the  cyclone's  gyrations, 
Bears  death  on  its  wings  from  the  storm-brewing 
west, 

Uprooting  the  forest,  o'erwhelming  plantations — 
Then  pure,  though  exhausted,  at  last  sinks  to  rest. 

Old  Niagara's  flood,  with  no  pow'r  to  restrain  it, 
Tumultuous  rolls  to  the  steep,  rocky  crest  j 
5* 


106  A    CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

Then  with  thunderous  plunge  leaves  a  rainbow  be 
hind  it, 
And  silently  glides  to  the  ocean  to  rest. 

"When  regal  ambition  is  fuming  and  tow'ring, 
And  hosts  rush  to  battle,  their  valor  to  test, 

The  red  clouds  of  war,  hurtling  angry  and  low'ring, 
Are  rent  by  artillery,  and  kingdoms  find  rest. 

The  doomed  sons  of  labor,  aroused  by  the  morning, 
nave  toiled  through  the  sunshine,  fatigued  and  un- 

blest, 

Till  the  bright  starry  millions,  the  heavens  adorning, 
Have  lighted  them  home  and  have  lulled  them  to 
rest. 

The  man  who  has  honored  the  God  of  creation, 
And  striven  through  life  for  the  realms  of  the  blest, 

As  the  storm-clouds  retire — to  his  soul's  exultation — 
Shall  gaze  on  the  rainbow,  the  token  of  rest. 

This  wondrous  economy  knows  no  cessation, 
But  reigns  under  heaven,  as  the  wisest  and  best. 

Thus  tempest,  and  tumult,  and  toil,  and  privation, 
Though  ages  should  pass,  are  the  preludes  of  rest. 


THE  WORLD  WITHOUT  AND  WITHIN.          107 

But  if  earthquakes  and  cyclones  and  cataracts,  yield 
ing, 

Obey  the  decree  to  their  natures  address'd  ; 
Then,  courage,  my  soul !  for  th'  Eternal  is  wielding 

The  world's  moral  forces  to  crown  thee  with  rest. 

And  when  bliss  sempiternal  our  senses  engages, 
This  truth — long  by  millions  angelic  confess'd — 

Shall  shine  on  forever,  unmeasured  by  ages — 
That  service  in  heaven  is  the  glory  of  rest. 


108  A   CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


Written  by  request  of  the  ladies  of  Oxford,  Ga.,  to  le  suny  on  the  occa 
sion  of  streioing  garlands  upon  their  tombs,  in  the  "  Soldiers' 
Cemetery,"  May  1,  1867. 

FAREWELL,  heroic  strangers  I 
We  weep  around  your  tombs. 

For  us  you  fac'd  all  dangers, 
For  us  you  met  your  dooms. 

CHORUS. 

No  mother  now  can  bless  you, 
No  father's  presence  cheer  j 

No  loving  wife  caress  you  : 
You  rest  in  silence  here. 


The  storm  of  war  has  ended, 
The  roar  of  battle  ceased  ; 

No  posts  are  now  defended  : 
Their  guards  are  all  released. 

Cho.  —  No  mother  now,  etc. 


A  TRIBUTE  TO  THE  HEROIC  DEAD.  109 

The  vernal  flowers  are  blooming, 

And  nature  lives  again, 
While  cheerless  winter's  looming 

Around  our  honored  slain. 

Gho. — No  mother  now,  etc. 

But  here,  in  grateful  duty, 

Your  mother's  sex  have  come 
To  wreathe  in  fragrant  beauty 

The  soldier's  lonely  tomb. 

Gho. — Xo  mother  now,  etc. 

Forget  you  will  we  never  ! 

Where'er  we  rest  or  roam ; 
Your  names  shall  live  forever 

Where  Freedom  finds  a  home  1 

Oho. — No  mother  now,  etc. 


110  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


LET  PAST  ILLS  BE  FORGOTTEN,  AND  FUTURE  JOYS  TRUSTFULLY 
ANTICIPATED. 

ANOTHER  year  has  fled  and  gone ! 
Its  buried  millions  sleep. 

Its  beggar'd  orphans  sigh  alone— 
Its  widow'd  mothers  weep. 

The  lurid  storm  that  hurtled  high, 

With  vengeance  on  its  wings, 
Has  fled ;  but  left  a  gloomy  sky, 

Where  godless  strife  still  rings. 

Ten  thousand  tombless  dead  are  there — 

Once  heroes  in  the  field — 
And  sorrow  wails  along  the  air, 

Where  cannon-thunders  peal'd. 

The  dim  and  distant  past  yet  gleams 
In  fitful  light  afar, 


ANEW  YEAR 'S  REFLECTIONS— 1608.  1 1 1 

While  New  Year  pours  its  birthday  beams, 
And  lights  its  morning  star. 

Then  why  recall  these  months  of  pain, 

And  re-enact  their  woes  I 
Must  grief  and  tears  forever  reign, 

Though  Heaven  its  smiles  bestows  f 

Away !  insurgent  thoughts,  away  I 

In  Lethean  floods  expire. 
I  hail  with  joy  the  new-born  day ; 

New  themes  my  spirit  fire. 

A  God  surrounds  the  path  I  tread ; 

His  rainbow  spans  my  sky  j 
His  nameless  mercies  crown  my  head ; 

His  angel  guards  are  nigh. 

Then  welcome  each  returning  year, 

While  light  and  love  are  given ; 
For  when  we  close  this  brief  career, 

Our  life  begins  in  heaven. 


112  A   CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


I  HAVE  seen  the  sunlit  mountain 
Bathing  'mid  the  clouds  of  spring  ; 

I  have  heard  the  gushing  fountain 
Loudly  through  the  forest  ring  : 

I  have  skimmed  the  boiling  billow, 
'Twixt  the  ocean  flood  and  sky  5 

When  bright  Phoebus  sought  his  pillow 
'Mid  the  sea-nymphs'  lullaby  : 

I  have  seen  a  peerless  glory 
Arch  the  darkling  front  of  heaven  j 

And  have  heard  creation's  story 
By  the  starry  millions  given. 

And  amidst  these  scenes  of  splendor, 
Filling  earth  and  air  and  sea, 

Oft  my  feelings  homage  render 
To  the  boundless  Deity. 


THE  GRANDEUR  OF  NATURE.  113 

Still,  oh  still,  I'm  lone  and  cheerless, 

Till  the  reigning  God  appears ; 
Pours  His  light,  and  bids  me,  fearless, 

Triumph  in  this  world  of  tears. 

Mountain,  rainbow,  sun  and  ocean, 

Lose  their  glory  in  His  blaze  ; 
While  my  soul  in  deep  devotion 

Sinks,  enraptur'd  with  the  gaze. 


114  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


THE  day-star  burned  high  over  Mamre's  broad  plain, 

Flooding  city  and  sea  with  his  rays  ; 
While  its  grand  oaken  forest  subud'd  his  fierce  reign, 

Shading  Abraham's  tent  from  their  blaze. 

Ilere  the  patriarch  mused  in  his  door,  o'er  the  scene, 
While  benevolence  ruled  his  great  heart, 

As  three  gentle  strangers  approached  on  the  green, 
With  a  message  from  Heaven  to  impart. 

The  patriarch  rose,  then  in  courtesy  bowed, 
And  welcom'd  these  guests  to  his  home. 


*  When  on  a  visit  to  the  city  of  Baltimore,  towards  the  close  of  the 
year  18C8,  the  author  was  permitted  to  form  the  acquaintance  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  BROADBENT,  of  that  city,  a  noble,  generous,  and  pious  pair, 
with  no  lineal  descendants  to  cheer  their  board  and  brighten  their 
declining  years,  but  whose  open-hearted  benevolence  and  Eastern  hos 
pitality  were  promptly  and  warmly  extended  to  the  ministerial  stran 
ger,  who,  shortly  after  his  return  to  his  own  loved  home  in  the  South , 
penned  this  grateful  tribute  to  his  kind  benefactors.  Since  that  time 
Mr.  G.  BROADBENT  has  been  called  to  his  reward.  May  Heaven's 
blessings  attend  his  surviving  consort ! 


A  TRIBUTE  OF  GRATITUDE.  115 

To  offer  refreshments  and  rest  he  was  proud, 
Unconscious  that  angels  had  come. 

The  fold  and  the  garner  were  tax'd  for  their  best — 
Eastern  luxury  crown'd  the  full  board  ; 

While  the  heralds  angelic  adinir'd  as  they  bless'd, 
Till  in  wonder  he  gazed  and  ador'd. 

No  angel,  my  host  and  my  hostess,  was  there, 
When  your  halls  were  thrown  wide  to  your  guest, 

A  bright  "  child  of  promise  "  to  pledge  as  your  heir, 
In  return  for  his  comfort  and  rest. 

'Twas  a  stranger,  earth-lorn,  whom  you  cherish'd 

and  cheer'd 

At  your  princely  and  generous  home  ; 
But  the  patriarch's  God,  whom  that  stranger 

revered, 
Will  reward  you  in  years  yet  to  come. 

And  when  hoary  hairs  shall  encircle  your  brows, 
And  you  're  loaded  with  honors  and  years  ; 

As  he  sinks  to  his  rest,  he'll  remember  his  vows, 
And  embalm  your  loved  mem'ries  with  tears. 


116  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

The  war-god,  in  wrath,  may  have  steep'd  him  in 
woes, 

And  his  home  bear  the  scourge  of  his  curse ; 
But  a  warm  Southern  heart  ever  gratefully  glows, 

Till  consigu'd  to  the  shroud  and  the  hearse.* 


*The  war  between  the  States  had  then  closed,  but  ita  sequences 
were  bearing  heavily  upon  the  author. 


A  SOUVENIR  OF  LOVE.  117 


Written,  by  the  author  on  a  valentine  sent  to  his  beloved  wife  on  the 
14t/i  of  February,  1856,  and  while  delivering  his  fifteenth  course 
of  Chemical  and  Pharmaceutical  Lectures,  in  Augusta,  Ga. 

A  "VALENTINE!  a  valentine!"  delighted  beauty 
cries, 

As  quick  she  breaks  the  ruddy  seal,  to  feast  her  long 
ing  eyes. 

She  gazes  on  the  honeyed  lines,  and  drinks  their 
nectar  in, 

Then  binds  the  motto  to  her  heart  with  jewel'd  brooch 

and  pin. 

f~ 

Dear  wife,  expect  no  burning  strains,  nor  darts,  nor 
turtle  dove  j  [love. 

'Tis  no  enraptur'd  swain  indites  this  modest  meed  of 

Tis  manhood's  ripest  fruit,  matur'd  by  suns  of  pass 
ing  years, 

Most  fragrant  in  the  home  that's  blest  with  woman's 
smiles  and  tears. 


118  A    CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

One  score  and  eight  returning  years  have  crown'd 

our  nuptial  ties, 
And  age  lias  left  its  mild  impress,  to  win  us  to  the 

skies. 
Ten  thousand  gifts  indulgent  Heaven  has   on   our 

pathway  pour'd, 
And   children  stand    like  olive  plants  around  our 

happy  board. 

Then,  dearest  partner  of  my  youth,  companion  of  ray 

age, 

Accept  another  pledge  of  love  upon  this  virgin  page. 
In  sweeter  union  let  us  taste  the  joys  so  richly  giv'n, 
And  live  in  peace  and  love  on  earth,  to  live  again  in 

heaven. 


THE  LADIES'  WELCOME. 


A  MASOKIC   ODE. 

Prepared  for,  and  sung  by  the  pupils,  before  the  members  of  the 
Grand  Lodge  of  Free  and  Accepted  Masons  of  the  State  of  Georgia, 
with  other  members  of  the  fraternity,  at  the  Annual  Commence 
ment  of  the  Southern  Masonic  Female  College,  in  Covington,  Ga.— 
an  institution  under  the  patronage  of  that  Grand  Body— June 
20,  1871. 

THE  winds  of  old  winter  have  fled  to  their  mountains, 
And  summer  has  garnish'd  the  forests  and  skies ; 

While  manhood  and  beauty  have  left  hills  and  foun 
tains, 
To  grace  this  assembly  with  joy-beaming  eyes. 

CHORUS. 

Thrice  welcome !  ye  sons  of  the  sires  of  past  ages ; 
We  bid  you  thrice  welcome  to  these  classic 

halls. 

The  noble  descendants  of  savans  and  sages, 
Your  praise  shall  resound  through  our  time- 
honorM  walls. 

Through  three  thousand  years  have  your  altars  been 

burning — 
Their  soft,  waxen  lights  beaming  steady  and  clear 


120  A    CLUSTER   OF  POEMS. 

Both  iii  palace  and  prison  —  disloyalty  spurning 

You've  reach'd  the  grand  age  when  we  welcome 
you  here. 

Oho. — Thrice  welcome  !  etc. 


Hail !  hail  to  the  Temple  on  old  Mount  Moriah ! 

Whose  builders  first  rose  to  the  gavel's  shrill  sound. 
Its  glories  symbolic  proclaim'd  the  MESSIAH, 

Whose  truth  has  for  ages  your  altar-tops  crowned. 

Oho, — Thrice  welcome  !  etc. 


Thus  pillar'd  and  stately,  Strength,  Wisdom  and  Beauty 
Sustain  and  adorn  your  blue,  star-spangled  dome ; 

While  Faith,  Hope  and  Love,  in  the  Ladder  of  duty, 
All  woo  to  the  skies  and  a  heavenly  home. 

Cho. — Thrice  welcome  !  etc. 

Then  hail,  jewel'd  Order !  fair  woman's  protection ; 

Her  fast,  faithful  friend  'mid  the  dangers  of  life. 
Her  daughters,  before  you,  with  love  and  affection 

Will  cherish  your  mem'ries,  as  maiden  or  wife. 

Cho. — Thrice  welcome !  etc. 


THE  LADIES'  WELCOME.  121 

Each  summer  return  and  make  known,  through  your 

college, 

That  Masonry  honors  the  child  of  her  birth ; 
And  the  "Means"  and  the  "  Clio," *twin  sisters  in 

knowledge, 

Will  wreathe  you  with  flowers  and  sing  to  your 
worth. 

Cho. — Thrice  welcome  1  etc. 


The  two  Literary  Societies  of  the  College, 

6 


122  A    CLUSTER   OF  POEMS. 


glir^i 
-J-V4 


IN  the  safety  of  Almighty  keeping, 

Surrounded  by  unreliev'd  gloom, 
A  nebulous  universe,  sleeping, 

Lay  hush'd  in  eternity's  womb. 

But  a  firmament's  birth-time  was  nearing, 
To  swell  the  bright  host  on  parade  ; 

And  a  new  zone  of  worlds  was  appearing  — 
For  the  mandate  Divine  was  obey'd. 

The  grand  panorama  completed, 
Through  decades  of  ages  now  gone,* 

By  the  anthems  of  angels  was  greeted, 
And  its  sun-lighted  glories  roll'd  on. 

Our  young  planet-home  shone  in  splendor, 
With  its  oceans  and  mountains  and  plains, 

While  its  groves  rang  with  symphonies  tender, 
Ee-echoed  in  loveliest  strains. 


WOMAN  IN  PARADISE.  123 

Though  rich  in  the  floods  from  its  fountains — 
Unceasingly  grand  in  their  flow — 

No  MIND  was  enthron'd  on  its  mountains, 
Nor  rul'd  in  its  valleys  below. 

But  lo !  the  Eternal  descended 

To  garnish  his  new-born  domain ; 
For  his  heaven  and  earth  must  be  blended, 

And  MAN  must  in  majesty  reign  ! 

The  harps  of  celestials  resounded  j 

The  monarch  illumin'd  the  scene ; 
The  joy  of  creation  abounded, 

And  earth  wav'd  her  banners  of  green. 

How  blissful  the  boon  of  existence 
Which  open'd  communion  with  light ! 

No  cloud  hung  in  gloom  in  the  distance, 
And  seraphs  turn'd  earthward  their  flight. 

The  soft,  purple  blush  of  the  morning 
Gave  way  to  the  flood-light  of  noon, 

The  mountains  and  forests  adorning, 
Till  night  claim'd  the  sheen  of  her  moon. 


124  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

The  hosts  of  the  firmament  round  her 
Did  homage  with  banners  uufurl'd, 

And  in  silence  rever'd  Him  who  crown'd  her 
Fair  queen  of  a  sweet-sleeping  world. 

No  counterpart  yet  grac'd  creation  ; 

Man,  lofty  and  lone,  walk'd  abroad, 
Or  knelt  in  sublime  contemplation, 

To  adore  his  invisible  God. 

No  pulse  beat  responsive  around  him ; 

No  features  reflected  his  own  $ 
To  none  kindred  sympathies  bound  him — 

He  stood  in  his  glory  alone. 

But  Jehovah  ne'er  wak'd  an  emotion, 
Nor  sprung  a  high  wish  in  the  mind, 

To  tantalize  love  or  devotion, 
And  fade,  to  leave  curses  behind. 

Oh  no !  ye  bright  ranks  who  adore  Him, 
Emblazon'd  with  truth  as  ye  burn, 

Kise  in  glorified  grandeur  before  Him, 
The  foul  imputation  to  spurn  ! 


WOMAN  IN  PARADISE.  125 


But  nature,  in  beauty  reposing, 
Ne'er  sounded  the  deeps  of  his  soul, 

Till  WOMAN,  his  eyelids  unclosing, 
Pour'd  ravishing  bliss  through  the  whole. 

All  radiant  with  angelic  graces, 
She  shone  in  the  light  of  her  God ; 

And  her  internal  peace  left  its  traces 
On  cheeks  ting'd  with  innocent  blood. 

Her  beauty  and  purity  blended, 

And,  glowing  with  Heaven's  first  love, 
Woke  paeans  of  praise,  which  ascended 

To  mingle  with  anthems  above. 

***** 
But  the  universe,  blazing  with  glory, 

Turn'd  dark  o'er  the  first  guilty  pair  j 
For  Lucifer,  learning  their  story, 

Had  poui^d  death  and  doom  on  the  air. 

Oh  weep,  ye  unborn  generations  I 
And  Heaven's  rich  mercies  implore  j 

For  a  curse  follow'd  hell's  sinuations, 
And  the  "garden  of  bliss"  is  no  more  I 


12&  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

Thus  from  Eden,  where  angels  first  fonnd  her, 

Eve  fled  from  the  frown  of  her  God  ; 
Yet  its  odors,  still  clinging  around  her, 

Made  fragrant  the  path  which  she  trod. 

*  *  *  #  * 

Fair  exile  !  though  banish'd  and  blighted, 

Still  the  loadstar  and  light  of  thy  race ! 
Eeserv'd,  with  the  Godhead  united, 

To  open  the  flood-gates  of  grace. 

Thy  brow  wore  the  impress  of  Heaven 
Through  ages  of  guilt  rolling  by, 

When  the  signal  of  mercy  was  given, 
And  the  "  Star  in  the  East7'  lit  the  sky ! 

Its  bright  sister  millions  surrounded 
And  shone  upon  Bethlehem's  plain, 

While  the  broad  empyrean  resounded 
With  "  glory's  "  exalted  refrain. 

HaiU  hail  the  Messiah,  ye  nations ! 

The  banner  of  u  peace  "  is  unfurl'd ; 
And  by  wondrous,  sublime  revelations^. 

A  VIRGIN  gives  life  to  the  world  ! 


WOMAN  IN  CHRISTENDOM. 


The  Cross  held  its  victim  suspended  — 
Earth  shudd'ring  in  dread  to  the  sky  $ 

And  with  pangs  —  every  mnscle  distended  — 
The  GOD-MAN  was  struggling  to  die  I 

Amazed,  overwhelmed  and  confounded, 
The  petrified  thousands  stood  by  j 

But,  amid  the  doom'd  throng  who  surrounded, 
Lov'd  Mary  and  John  caught  His  eye. 

Oh  !  deathless  and  boundless  affection 
For  the  mother  who  kissed  Him  at  birth  ! 

In  His  death-throes  he  vouch'd  Her  protection, 
And  hallow'd  tliat  name*  upon  earth. 

Thus  throned  and  exalted  forever, 
The  cross  in  her  bosom  enshrin'd, 

Fair  woman  shall  reign  ever,  ever, 
O'er  the  hearts  and  the  homes  of  mankind. 

Then  hail!  brightest  type  of  creation  ! 

Though  once  overshadow'd  by  gloom, 
Yet  noiv,  with  a  worltfs  acclamation, 

Thy  SON  has  brought  life  from  the  tomb! 

*  Mother. 


128  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


OR, 

THE   DARKNESS  OF    CONVICTION  CONTRASTED   WITH 
THE   LIGHT  OF    CONVERSION. 

NATURE  groans  when  stunning  thunder 

Cracks  the  scowling  vault  of  heaven, 
Kiving  mountain  crags  asunder, 

Down  in  headlong  ruin  driven. 
But  the  storm-cloud's  wildest  clangor 

Softly  dies  upon  the  ear, 
If  an  injur'd  God,  in  anger, 

Stirs  the  trembling  sinner's  fear. 

Deeply  heaves  the  wailing  ocean, 

Lash'd  by  madd'ning  wintry  storms ; 
Water-spouts,  with  whirlwinds'  motion, 

Stretching  high  their  specter  forms. 
Yet  the  raging  seas  are  quiet — 

Hush'd  to  noiseless,  dead  repose — 
When  the  penitential  spirit 

Struggles  with  its  weight  of  woes. 


GLOOM  AND  GLORY*  129 

Change  the  scene !    Aurora,  coming, 

Heralds  in  the  god  of  day. 
Hark !  the  busy  world  is  humming  5 

Nations  rise  to  greet  his  sway. 
Yet  how  dim  the  sun  of  heaven, 

When  compared  to  glory's  light 
Streaming  on  a  soul  forgiven, 

And  in  raptures  at  the  sight ! 

Gorgeous  glows  the  emerald  mountain, 

Bath'd  in  light  of  vernal  skies, 
Crowning  high  yon  crystal  fountain, 

Garnish'd  rich  in  rainbow  dyes ; 
Tet  how  faint  an  adumbration 

Of  the  saints'  eternal  home ! 
Hallelujah !    God's  creation 

Shadows  but  the  joys  to  come ! 
6* 


A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


*  ttif    jpaifl  in 


THE  following  stanzas  are  intended  as  a  feeble  tribute  to  tho 
memory  of  a  departed  friend — Mrs.  AMELIA  A.  ANDREW — wife 
of  tho  excellent  and  lamented  Bishop  JAMES  O.  ANDREW,  of 
Georgia,  who  now  rests  with  his  sainted  consort  in  heaven. 
In  writing  them,  the  author  has  but  obeyed  tho  promptings  of 
his  own  heart. 

Gifted  with  a  mind  of  no  ordinary  caliber,  largely  developed 
and  improved  by  an  extensive  acquaintance  with  human  nature, 
Mrs.  ANDREW  was  characterized  by  a  high  and  dignified  sense 
of  propriety,  in  all  her  intercourse  with  others ;  by  an  unflinch 
ing  firmness  and  steadiness  of  purpose  in  the  greatest  exigen 
cies  of  life ;  and  above  all,  by  a  sound  and  enlightened  piety, 
which,  though  at  one  time  severely  tested,  shed  a  heavenly  lus 
ter  around  her  dying  bed,  rarely  equaled,  and  still  more  rarely 
surpassed. 

SHE  is  gone !    She  is  gone !    I  behold  her  now 

On  the  bosom  of  love  reclining, 
While  the  cypress  and  rose  on  her  marble  brow 

Are  in  lovely  embrace  entwining. 

How  fiery  and  fierce  was  the  battle  wag'd, 
As  she  near'd  her  approaching  heaven ! 

Perdition  exhausted  its  fruitless  rage, 
And  its  last  red  bolt  was  driven. 


THE   TRIUMPH  OF  FAITH.  131 

Still  heavenward  and  high  as  she  pitch'd  her  flight, 

Her  infernal  foes  surrounded, 
Till,  scath'd  by  the  blaze  of  supernal  light, 

They  cower'd,  and  fled  confounded. 

Then,  pois'd  on  the  wing  of  a  lofty  faith, 
With  the  power  of  prayer  around  her, 

She  smiled,  and  courted  the  parting  breath 
To  sunder  the  ties  that  bound  her. 

Serenely  calm  as  the  land-lock'd  bay 
When  the  far-off  storm  is  sweeping, 

Her  waveless  soul  in  the  sunlight  lay 
Like  the  smile  of  an  infant  sleeping. 

"No  tear  at  my  tomb,"  said  the  dying  saint, 

As  her  raptured  soul  ascended ; 
-"Let  the  song  and  shout — not  a  cheerless  plaint — 

Be  in  heavenly  triumph  blended." 

But  her  hour  had  come !    'Twas  a  hallow'd  sight  I 

Tor  an  angel  throng  attended  j 
And  lost  in  the  blaze  of  immortal  light, 

Was  her  bright  career  thus  ended. 

What  a  moment  was  that  when  her  heaven  had  come, 
And  the  Godhead's  glow  surrounded ! 


132  A    CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

When  welcoming  millions  receiv'd  her  home, 
And  eternity's  harps  resounded ! 

Farewell,  then,  my  sister ! — a  long  farewell ! — 
Though  your  form  and  your  words  may  leave  us, 

That  affectionate  grasp  of  your  dying  hand 
Will  never  depart — believe  us !  * 

All,  all  shall  be  well,  though  a  husband  sighs, 
And  your  motherless  babes  are  weeping ; 

You  have  taught  them  to  trust  in  the  God  of  the 

skies, 
And  they're  safe  in  His  heavenly  keeping. 

O  God !  to  the  friends  of  our  sister  gone, 

Let  her  conquering  grace  be  given  j 
And  then,  when  the  drama  of  life  is  done, 

We  shall  greet  her  again  in  heaven. 


*  Shortly  before  her  departure,  sitting  upright  in  her  bed,  and  hold 
ing  the  hand  of  the  writer  with  an  ardent  grasp,  her  face  radiant  with 
a  superabundant  revelation  from  on  high,  she  said :  "  Doctor,  I  am 
going  to  leave  you ;  but  you  JMVC  a  long  time  to  live  yet."  Nearly  thirty 
years  have  since  elapsed,  and  thai  friend,  after  so  many  years  of  heavy 
intellectual  and  physical  toil,  still  lives !  grateful  to  God  for  his  pro 
tracted  life,  aud  for  the  health,  strength,  and  privilege  yet  allowed 
him,  to  proclaim  that  everlasting  gospel  which  has  eternized  the  bliss 
of  Sister  ANDREW,  with  millions  more,  in  heaven. 


A  FAREWELL  SOUVENIR.  133 


Addressed  to  MRS.  JANE  W.  BALDWIX,  the  daughter  of  an  old  and 
esteemed  friend  of  the  author,  namely,  KEY.  THOMAS  SAMJTOKD, 
and  presented  on  the  eve  of  her  departure,  with  her  husband,  for 
Louisiana. 

How  fitfully  varied  the  stream  of  life ! 

How  strangely  capricious  it  wanders  ! 
Ev'ry  curve  of  the  current  with  change  is  rife, 

Where  the  good  man  prays  and  ponders. 

You  are  borne  011  its  bosom,  my  dear  young  friend, 

Away  to  the  laud  of  strangers ; 
May  Mercy  and  Truth  their  resources  blend, 

To  succor  your  soul  n  dangers. 

Farewell,  then,  Jane !  may  your  home  be  bless'd 
By  the  smiles  of  ap;  roving  Heaven ; 

And  your  light  still  shine  in  the  far,^far  West, 
Till  your  home  in  the  skies  is  given. 

And  when  I  am  called  to  my  rest  above, 
And  your  children  learn  the  story, 


134  A    CLUSTER   OF  POEMS. 

Oh  teach  them  to  cherish  my  name  in  love, 
Till  we  meet  in  the  realms  of  glory. 

And  no\v  farewell  to  your  honor'd  sire ! 

No  more  upon  earth  I'll  meet  him  j 
But  aloft,  in  the  land  of  the  harp  and  lyre, 

By  the  grace  of  God  I'll  greet  him. 

And  when  old  age  shall  our  strength  destroy, 

And  mem'ry  fails  before  it, 
We'll  each  call  the  name  of  his  own  dear  boy^ 

And  remember  him  who  lore  it.* 


*  The  EEV.  T.  SAMFORD  had  a  son  called  after  the 
author,  \vho  gave  the  name  of  that  venerable  mail  to  one 
of  his  own  sons,  at  the  baptismal  font. 


RIPE  FOR  HE  A  VEN.  135 


A  TRUE  SKETCH  FROM  THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF 

MISS  SALLIE  L.   MEANS, 
ffi&e  JMceless,  SafntetJ  JDaujjfjtet  of  tjje 


ON  December  eleventh,  eighteen  fifty-one, 
When  the  bleak  blasts  of  winter  were  fast  coming  on, 
A  sweet  little  stranger  appeared  in  our  room  — 
Its  face  like  a  rosebud  beginning  to  bloom. 

A  mother's  embrace  soon  encircled  her  child  ; 
She  looked  on  in  rapture,  and  gratefully  smiled. 
In  its  soft  flannel  wrapper  it  lay  on  her  breast  — 
She  kissed  its  plump  cheek,  and  soon  lulled  it  to  rest. 

In  its  bright,  happy  smile  and  its  tender  blue  eyes, 
Like  a  sunrise  in  May,  under  welcoming  skies, 
A  father  beheld  his  own  dear  flesh  and  blood, 
And,  bowing  in  pray'r,  gave  his  infant  to  God. 

That  trust  —  ne'er  recalled  —  was  recorded  in  heaven, 
And  her  soul  in  young  childhood  to  Jesus  was  given. 


136  A  CLUSTER   OF  POEMS. 

Oh  blessed  alliance  of  innocent  youth, 
In  holier  bonds  than  Naomi's  with  Ruth. 

While  the  sweet,  lowly  violet  peeps  from  the  lawn, 
To  greet  the  first  sunbeams  that  purple  the  dawn, 
The  dahlia  and  sunflow'r,  ambitiously  bold, 
Display  to  the  noonday  their  crimson  and  gold ; 

So,  in  life's  early  morn,  as  her  knowledge  increas'd, 
And  the  bright  Sun  of  Eighteousness  rose  in  the  east, 
As  he  cleared  the  horizon  she  caught  his  first  gleams, 
Content  with  the  fragrance  inhaled  from  his  beams. 

Like  her  owii/az/n'fc  flower,*  she  bloomed  in  the  shade, 
Nor  envied  the  "  Bon  Tou,"  in  splendor  arrayed. 
As  well  feed  the  famished  with  diamonds  and  pearls, 
Or  deck  fair  Minerva  with  jewels  and  curls. 

From  the  smiles  of  her  Saviour  no  charms  could 

allure ; 

She  reached  noble  womanhood  modest  and  pure. 
Clear  and  calm  as  the  lake  when  it  sleeps  in  repose 
Was  her  innocent  breast,  where  no  wild  passions  rose. 


*  The  violet. 


RIPE  FOR  HE  A  VEN.  137 

Joy  beamed  from  her  eyes,  and  Love  molded  her 

heart, 

While  the  Graces  combined  every  gift  to  impart. 
Her  charity,  boundless,  embraced  her  whole  race ; 
It  was  heaven-born,  glowing,  and  shone  in  her  face. 

Her  dear  "Orna  Villa"*  was  bright  where  she  moved, 
And  her  presence  was  balm  to  the  hearts  that  she 

lov'd. 
Her  song  cheered  the  parlor,  and  rang  through  the 

hall, 
And  her  kind  voice  of  "  welcome  "  was  tendered  to  all. 

She  was  born  from   on  high;  her  affections  were 

there; 

And  her  heart's  aspirations  found  converse  in  pray'r. 
On  the  heavens  and  earth  she  delighted  to  gaze, 
And  her  deep  adoration  was  mellowed  to  praise. 

Her  filial  devotion,  inspired  from  above, 
Was  profound  and  intensive,  and  radiant  with  love. 
Blest  trait  of  the  household  !  how  sweetly  displayed, 
When  parents  are  honored,  revered  and  obeyed  1 


•  Her  father's  residence. 
6** 


138  A   CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

The   young  clustered  round  her  in  Sunday-school 

hours, 

As  rosebuds  half-blown,  under  green,  shady  bow'rs; 
To  her  bland,  soothing  voice,  charmed  attention  was 

given, 
As  she  fondled,  caressed  them,  and  woo'd   them  to 

heaven. 

The  white  tents  of  Jacob,  how  goodly  and  grand 
They  rose  on  her  eye,  as  they  spread  o'er  the  land  ! 
But  the  dearest  of  scenes  on  the  path  which  she 

trod, 
Were  the  carbuncled  gates  of  the  Zion  of  God. 

Its  portals  stood  wide,  her  approaches  to  greet, 
And  its  courts  rang  with  melodies,  hallowed  and 

sweet. 

This  luminous  center  attracted  her  soul, 
For  there  the  Shekinah  shed  light  through  the  whole. 

But  adieu,  holy  hour,  never  more  to  return! 

Bright    visions   now  gone !    and  in    sackcloth  we 

mourn. 

Though  her  spirit's  in  heaven,  her  dust's  in  the  tomb, 
And  the  home  of  her  childhood  is  mantled  in  gloom. 


RIPE  FOR  HE  A  VEN.  139 

Thus  lustrous  with  virtues,  and  buoyant  and  blest, 
Her  life  glided  smoothly,  and  all  was  at  rest ; 
Till  a  dark,  lurid  cloud  up  her  sky  seemed  to  creep, 
And  a  deluging  cyclone  whelmed  all  in  the  deep. 

But  light  shone  around  her  as  danger  drew  nigh, 
And,  embraced  by  her  Saviour,  she  feared  not  to  die. 
"AWs  right !  "  was  her  watchword,  with  dying  lips 

given, 
And  an  angelic  escort  convoyed  her  to  heaven. 

Like  the  crystaline  snow-flake,  the  child  of  the  skies, 
That  descends  pure  and  spotless,  to  ravish  all  eyes ; 
But  warmed  by  the  sunbeams,  and  winged  for  its 

flight, 
It  heavenward  soars,  and  is  lost  to  the  sight. 

Farewell,  thou  sweet  phantom  of  purest  delight ! 
Evanescent  and  faded,  yet  "  aZZ,  all  is  right !  " 
But  in  regions  of  bliss,  God  of  love,  let  us  meet, 
In  the  noontide  of  glory  our  sainted  to  greet  L 


140  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  MRS.  MARTHA  ELIZABETH  McINTOSII, 
(FORMERLY  GRIGGS),  OP  MICANOPY,  KAST  FLORIDA. 

ANOTHER  life-struggle  is  ended, 

And  victory  rings  on  the  air  j 
Another  bright  spirit's  ascended, 

'Mid  tear-drops,  and  praises,  and  pray'r. 

Her  wing,  when  the  death-knell  resounded, 
Was  spread  for  her  heavenly  flight  j 

Invisible  angels  surrounded, 
And  rob'd  her  in  vestments  of  light. 

Ill  the  home  of  her  childhood  she  listened 

To  whispers  of  peace  from  above ; 
They  told  in  the  pearl-drops  that  glisten'd 

In  eyes  beaming  kindness  and  love. 

Transported  with  raptures  supernal. 
She  long'd  for  her  rest  in  the  sky  ; 

And  tendered  a  farewell  eternal 
To  pleasures  that  bloom  but  to  die. 


A  POETIC  OFFERING.  141 

Soon  her  maidenly  graces  and  beauty 
Threw  charms  o'er  a  thrice  happy  home  j 

And  our  bride  vied  in  conjugal  duty 
With  the  lovely  Lucretia  of  Rome. 

A  rosebud  of  ravishing  sweetness 
Now  hung  from  the  green  parent  stock, 

When  the  storm  came  with  hurricane  fleetuess, 
And  bore  off  the  gem  by  its  shock. 

But  as  sunshine  succeeded  to  shower, 

O'er  dear  Ella's  motionless  form, 
Three  plants  freshly  bloom'd  in  the  bower 

But  recently  drench'd  with  the  storm. 

The  dove  o'er  the  deluge  was  flying  j 

The  Ark  was  at  rest  upon  high ; 
The  floods  in  their  basins  were  lying, 

And  happiness  beam'd  from  her  sky. 

Install'd  as  a  wife  and  a  mother, 
Her  home  was  a  temple  for  prayer, 

A  prototype  fair  of  another, 
Unclouded  by  sorrow  or  care. 


142  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

The  glorious  Volume  of  Ages 

Was  throu'd  on  the  heights  of  her  soul, 
And  reign'd,  through  its  life-giving  pages, 

With  blissful  and  boundless  control. 

No  godless  assemblage  e'er  found  her 
Polluting  her  heaven-born  caste  j 

While  Infancy  nestled  around  her, 
And  Poverty  smiled  as  she  passed. 

But  alas !  when  the  day-king's  descending- 
His  mantle  all  jewel'd  with  light — 

And  the  tints  of  the  rainbow  are  blending, 
It  is  but  the  prelude  of  night. 

So,  too,  the  convolvulus,  blooming 

In  rosy  luxuriance  at  morn, 
Soon  droops,  by  the  noon-heat  consuming 

The  beauties  with  which  it  was  born. 

While  the  sun-beaten  flocks  are  reclining, 
And  rivers  dry  up  o'er  the  plain, 

It  sleeps  till  the  dew-drops  are  shining, 
Then  blushes  with  morning  again. 


A  POETIC  OFFERING.  143 

Thus  faded  oar  dear,  sainted  sister — 
Full  blown — in  her  womanly  prime, 

But  sank,  as  her  little  ones  kiss'd  her, 
To  bloom  in  a  lovelier  cliuae. 


144  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


A  PERORATION  TO  AN  ADDRESS  DELIVERED  BEFORE  THE 
*.  A.  9.*  SOCIETY,  NOVEMBER  21,  1873. 

THEN  hail !  ye  old  halls,  in  whose  sylvan  retreat 
The  young  of  the  land  all  in  harmony  meet ! 
A  college  of  Christians,  where  God  is  enthron'd, 
And  "  free  love  "  and  folly  are  scorn'd  and  disown'd. 

These  nurselings  that  cling  to  thy  bosom  to-night, 
And  imbibe  from  thy  paps  intellectual  might, 
Will,  in  forthcoming  years,  when  enlaurel'd  by  Fame, 
Then?  old  "  Alma  Mater"  with  plaudits  proclaim. 

Dear  Oxford  1  thy  shady  recesses  invite 

To  build  up  the  soul  and  to  crown  it  with  light. 

From  thy  pure,  hallow'd  homes,  vulgar  vices  are 

driven, 
And  woman,  sweet  woman !  allures  us  to  heaven. 


eo,  "  Friendship  is  pleasing  to  God." 


APOSTROPHE  TO  AN  ALBUM.  145 


f*  w 


DEDICATED  ON  THE  WEDDING-NIGHT. 

LOVELY  page  !  thou  long  hast  slumberM, 

Robed  in  stainless  virgin  white. 
Other  scrolls  their  days  have  numbered; 

Life  begins  with  thee  to-night  ! 

Bridal  love  has  sought  and  found  thee, 
Brilliant  type  of  woman's  grace  ! 

Vestal  lamps  are  blazing  round  thee, 
Joy  illumes  each  shining  face. 

Long,  oh  long,  sweet  Album!  cherish, 
Bright  with  smiles  or  moist  with  tears, 

Thoughts  and  names  which  ne'er  shall  perish, 
'Mid  the  tide  of  rolling  years. 

Bid  the  beauteous  bride  remember, 

When  all  mem'ries  else  decline, 
One  bright  eve  —  the  eighth  November, 

Eighteen  hundred  forty-nine  ! 

7 


146  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

Brief,  at  best,  the  trust  assigu'd  thee — 
Bearing  geins  from  saint  or  sage ; 

Future  search  shall  fail  to  find  thee — 
Lost  ainid  the  wastes  of  age. 

But  -when  all  thy  heart-born  treasures 

Shine  no  more  to  living  eyes, 
Those  who  scann'd  thy  sheets  with  pleasure, 

Still  shall  live  when  nature  dies. 


THE  SILENT  POWER  OF  WOMAN.  147 


ADDEESSED  TO  MISS  LEILA  OGILBY,  OP  MADISON,  GA. 

THERE  is  power  in  the  dew-drop  that  sleeps  on  the 

plain, 

When,  rous'd  by  Aurora,  it  mounts  to  the  sky  ; 
For,  stunn'd  by  its  thunders   and  drench'd  by  its 

rain, 

Earth  groans  from  her  caves  as  the  tempest  rolls 
by. 

So  soft,  gentle  woman,  the  heart's  purest  joy, 
Excites  men  and  nations  to  emprize  and  war. 

One  beautiful  Helen  fires  Athens  and  Troy, 
And  hosts  bleed  in  battle,  led  on  by  her  star. 

There  is  power  in.  the  sunbeam  that  steals  from  the 
skies, 

And  floods  sea  and  mountain,  unconscious  of  toil  ; 
Awak'd  by  its  dawnings,  the  world's  millions  rise, 

And  store  in  their  garners  the  wealth  of  the  soil. 


148  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

Thus  noiseless,  diffusive  and  brilliant  she  shines, 
Whose  smiles  bless  the  nations  her  presence  il 
lumes  ; 

Exalts  human  nature,  rude  manhood  refines, 
Gives  statesmen  their  laurels,  and   heroes  their 
plumes. 

There  is  power  in  the  zephyr  that  lulls  us  to  sleep, 
When  it  moves  in  the  whirl  of  the  cyclone  at  sea ; 

Then  marshals  its  thunders,  and,  ruling  the  deep, 
Whole  navies  are  pow'iiess  to  fight  or  to  flee. 

O  woman,  dear  woman !  the  dew  of  the  soul, 
The  light  of  the  homestead,  the  breath  of  old  age! 

Thy  sanctified  nature  the  world  shall  control, 
For  thy  kiss  on  the  infant  gives  fame  to  the  sage. 

Then,  Leila,  sweet  girl,  for  an  empire  prepare, 
Whose  scepter  is  love,  and  whose  legions  are  smiles; 

Thy  subjects  all  heroes,  who  honor  the  fair ; 
Thy  realms  a  bright  domain,  unmeasur'd  by  miles. 


A  GLACIER  IN  THE  HEART.  149 


ifettfe*  fa  fffc 


OR, 

PHLEGMATIC  BEAUTY  ETHEKEALIZED  BY  GRACE. 

[THE  Aurora  Borealis  is  supposed  to  be  the  result  of  electric 
emanations  from  the  immense  fields  of  ice  which  cover  the  po 
lar  seas  —  passing  off  in  brilliant  coruscations  of  diversified  hues 
towards  the  zenith,  becoming  less  and  less  distinct,  until  lost  in 
the  higher  and  rarer  regions  of  the  atmosphere.  Although  more 
frequently  witnessed  in  high  northern  latitudes,  yet  within  the 
last  half  century  several  of  these  magnificent  pageants  have 
adorned  our  southern  skies.] 

How  rich  and  soft  yon  crimson  glow 

That  tints  the  Arctic  skies  ! 
While  bleak  and  wide,  outstretched  below, 

An  icy  ocean  lies. 

'Tis  but  the  transient  flush  of  light 

The  polar  iceberg  flings  ; 
Yet  crowds  admire  the  lovely  sight, 

Unthinking  whence  it  springs. 


150  A    CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

Fit  emblem  of  the  roseate  tide 
That  flushes  beauty's  veins ; 

While  o'er  the  affections,  far  aud  wide, 
Eternal  winter  reigns. 

The  eye  may  flash  with  intellect, 
The  cheek  mock  painter's  art ; 

Yet  Heaven's  transpiercing  gaze  detect 
A  glacier  in  the  heart. 

But  oh !  when  fervent  grace  is  felt, 
Transcendent  beauties  rise  j 

Affection's  gelid  waters  melt, 
And  rainbows  span  the  skies. 

Love  hallows  all  the  sacred  scene, 
And  woman  dwells  in  light  j 

Her  eye,  her  smile,  her  life's  serene, 
And  angels  hail  the  sight. 

As  glowing  tints  far  west  appear, 
When  twilight  shades  begin, 

Thus,  soft  and  beautiful  and  clear, 
Her  evening  skies  shut  in. 


THE  CUPBOARD. 


Kiffte 

Waff* 


THE  following  rustic  versos  were  composed  by  the  author  in  his 
private  moments,  to  commemorate  an  epoch  in  Ms  domestic 
life,  connected  with  many  associations  which  gave  rise  to 
some  tender  reminiscences  of  other  days.  The  metrical  ar 
rangement  was  suggested  by  that  popular  old  ballad,  "  The  Old 
Oaken  Bucket  that  Hung  in  the  Well." 

YE  muses  immortal,  your  song-tribute  bring  ! 
What  muse  for  dear  Oxford  would  scruple  to  sing  ! 
Fair  Erato,  come,  with  thy  roses  and  lyre, 
For  plaintive  contralto  our  genius  inspire. 
Though  humble  the  theme,  hear  a  devotee's  call, 
To  sing  the  old  cupboard  that  stands  by  the  wall. 

The  nice,  cozy  cupboard  —  the  genial  old  cupboard  — 
The  life-giving  cupboard  that  stands  by  the  wall. 

Come,  wing  our  conceptions  and  roll  up  the  past 
As  thistle-down  flies  on  the  breath  of  the  blast. 
Bid  Story  present  us,  in  picturesque  forms, 
The  scenes  of  the  hamlet  —  its  calms  and  its  storms  j 


152  A    CLUSTER   OF  POEMS, 

And  iu  clustering  conclave  its  subjects  install 
Round  the  houor'd  old  cupboard  that  stands  by  the 

wall. 
The  hoary  old  cupboard — the  peerless  old  cup 

board — 
The  grandmother's  cupboard  that  stands  by  the  wall. 


We  sing,  then,  a  husband  and  blooming  young  wife, 
Just  fresh  from  the  altar,  launch'd  out  upon  life. 
No  luxuries  crown'd  their  pretensiouless  home  j 
With  peace  round  their  hearthstone  they  long'd  not 

to  roam. 

But  time  brought  a  nurseling  to  chirrup  and  crawl, 
With  a  mouth  for  the  cupboard  that  stood  by  the  wall. 
Then  a  sweet  little  cupboard — a  bright,  shining 

cupboard — 
A  dear,  darling  cupboard,  that  stood  by  the  wall. 

With  calm  resignation  they  met  woe  or  weal — 

The  man  at  his  pill-box,  the  wife  at  her  wheel. 

Contented  and  cheerful,  they  hopefully  toil'd ; 

!N~o  vaulting  ambition  their  heritage  spoil'd. 

Full  rich  with  the  wealth  of  their  snug  cottage  hall, 

Andthewell-plenished  cupboard  that  stood  by  the  wall. 


THE  CUPBOARD.  153 

A  tidy  young  cupboard — a  full-bosom'd  cupboard — 
The  cream-flowing  cupboard  that  stood  by  the  wall. 

Thus  years  roll'd  away,  and  more  prattlers  appeared, 
All  piously  taught  and  all  pray'rfully  rear'd. 
With  filial  affection  they  kiss'd  the  kind  hand 
That  molded  their  souls  to  the  great  and  the  grand ; 
While,  loaded  with  comforts  and  cheer  for  them  all, 
Was  the  tempting  old  cupboard  that  stood  by  the 

wall. 

The  oft-courted  cupboard — the  plentiful  cupboard — 
The  luscious  old  cupboard  that  stood  by  the  wall. 

But  industry  prosper'd,  and  rosewood  was  seen, 
With  rich  broider'd  damask  of  crimson  and  green  j 
While  music  swell'd  high  through  the  carpeted  room, 
Evolv'd  by  the  touch  of  young  beauty  in  bloom. 
But  always  the  same — far  removed  from  them  all — 
Was  the  voiceless  old  cupboard  that  stood  by  the  wall. 
The  canny  old  cupboard — the  closeted  cupboard — 
The  old-fashioned  cupboard  that  stood  by  the  wall. 

But  oh !  when  the  household  had  circled  the  board, 
And  a  sanctioning  blessing  from  Heaven  implor'd  j 

7* 


154  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

When  babyhood  hungered,  or  fretted,  or  cried, 
These  claims  reach'd  thepantry,  and  all  were  supplied. 
Fast  friend  to  the  needy,  and  waiting  their  call, 
Was  the  princely  old  cupboard  that  stood  by  the  wall. 
That  kindly  old  cupboard — the  food-laden  cup 
board — 
The  bounteous  old  cupboard  that  stood  by  the  wall. 

When  war  spread  its  havoc  and  blasted  the  land, 
And  famine,  gaunt  famine,  with  blade  and  with  brand 
FilPd  graves  by  the  thousand,  where  armies  had 

striv'n, 

And  sent  burning  homes  in  red  cinders  to  heav'n ; 
Still  hoarding  its  stores  for  its  mistress's  call, 
How  priceless  that  cupboard  that  stood  by  the  wall. 
The  cheerful  old  cupboard — the  teeming  old  cup 
board — 
The  provender  cupboard  that  stood  by  the  wall. 

Its  finger- worn  button,  yet  faithful  and  true, 

Still  guards  all  its  treasures,  and  hides  them  from 

view; 

It  holds  in  its  bosom,  delf,  porc'lain  and  plate, 
And  honors  the  landlady  early  and  late. 
When  appetite  clamors  and  threatens  a  brawl, 


THE  CUPBOARD.  155 


'Tis  hush'd  by  the  cupboard  that  stands  by  the  wall. 
The  gentle  old  cupboard — the  soothing  old  cup 
board — 
The  peace-making  cupboard  that  stands  by  the  wall. 

Now  forty-four  winters  have  whiten'd  their  locks, 
They  shine  in  the  sunbeams  like  snow  on  the  rocks ; 
Their  children  and  grandchildren  make  the  house  ring 
With  laughter  and  noise,  as  they  frolic  and  sing. 
Then  quitting  their  sports,  upon  "  grandma  "  they  call, 
And  rush  to  the  cupboard  that  stands  by  the  wall. 
The  tireless  old  cupboard — the  patient  old  cup 
board — 
The  fast-waning  cupboard  that  stands  by  the  wall. 

Quaint  steward  of  the  household,  we've  long  liv'd 

together, 

And  breasted  the  onsets  of  wind  and  of  weather ; 
But,  soulless  and  silent,  thou  sheddest  no  tears, 
Though  husband  and  wife  are  now  bending  with 

years. 

Yet,  till  they're  consign'd  to  the  hearse  and  the  pall, 
They'll  bless  the  old  cupboard  that  stands  by  the  wall. 
The  dingy  old  cupboard — the  crazy  old  cupboard — 
The  age-furrowed  cupboard  that  stands  by  the  wall. 


156  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS, 

Thou  shalt  linger  awhile  with  their  offspring  to  dwell ; 
But  oh  !  where's  the  seer  that  shall  dare  to  foretell 
When  thy  moth-eaten  panels  shall  rot  in  the  mire, 
Or  thy  splintered  remains  shall  be  food  for  the  fire  ? 
Yet  children  unborn  shall  thy  inem'ry  recall, 
And  mourn  the  old  cupboard  that  stood  by  the  wall. 
The  little  pine  cupboard — the  cherish'd  old  cup 
board — 
The  time-honor'd  cupboard  that  stood  by  the  wall. 

Farewell,  then,  companion  and  friend  of  our  youth ! 
Thou  faithful  exponent  of  goodness  and  truth ! 
Soon,  soon  we'll  be  destin'd  forever  to  part — 
A  long  separation  of  cupboard  and  heart. 
But  to  Sallie,  "our  Sallie,"  with  its  treasures  and  all, 
We  leave  the  old  cupboard  that  stands  by  the  wall. 
Our  Sallie's  own  cupboard— the  long  belov'd  cup 
board — 
Her  motlier's  old  cupboard  that  stands  by  the  wall.* 


*  Their  beloved  daughter,  Bailie  Leonora,  the  intended  heiress 
of  this  treasured  relic,  "  the  old  cupboard,"  "was  called  to  her  rest 
before  her  father  or  mother. 


FAREWELL  AND  GREETING.  157 


OK, 

THE  OLD   YEAR  AND  THE  NEW  — 1865  ANI>  1866. 

Our  Internecine  War  Hiving  Closed  in  1865. 

'Tis  the  silence  of  midnight !  The  year's  at  its  goal, 

In  the  star-lighted  arch  of  the  sky  j 
And  a  hemisphere  sleeps,  from  equator  to  pole, 

As  the  wave-tide  of  ages  rolls  by. 

While  the  earth  is  in  dreams  and  the  heav'ns  are 
at  rest, 

And  creation  moves  on  as  of  yore, 
Eternity's  offspring  falls  back  on  her  breast, 

And  the  year  Sixty-Jive  is  NO  MOKE  ! 

As  a  bubble,  afloat  on  a  sunlit  wave, 
Shines  a  moment  in  purple  and  green, 

Then  breaks  on  the  brow  of  its  ocean  grave, 
And  is  lost  in  the  boundless  scene ; 


158  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

So  its  fleet  golden  hours  have  but  flash'd  and  fled 

O'er  the  wastes  of  the  ages  past ; 
Not  an  obelisk  marks  their  oblivious  bed — 

Not  a  stone  where  they  breath'd  their  last. 

Yet  the  deeds  of  men,  with  their  smiles  and  tears, 

In  eternal,  changeless  light, 
Shall  burn  o'er  the  tombs  of  departed  years, 

When  the  sun  is  quench'd  in  night. 

Oh  the  scenes !  the  scenes  that  have  met  the  eye, 

In  the  rush  of  the  rolling  year, 
To  bo  cauvass'd  again,  when  a  God  draws  nigh, 

And  the  judgment  thrones  appear ! 

For  alas !  there  are  regions  of  damning  crime, 

That  send  up  their  stench  on  high, 
Provoking  the  bolts  of  the  wrath  sublime 

On  the  guilt  of  the  year  gone  by. 

There  lust  and  mammon  their  curses  pour 

Upon  heads  and  hearts  and  homes  ; 
While  murder  and  perjury  reck  with  gore, 

And  tremble  till  vengeance  comes. 


FAREWELL  AXD  GREETING.  159 


Yet  the  beauty  of  Virtue  and  charms  of  Grace 

Bring  the  angel  of  mercy  near, 
While  Religion  and  Science,  in  holy  embrace, 

Start  afresh  on  their  bright  career. 

But  a  birth !  a  birth  from  the  womb  of  night ! 

Lo,  an  heir  of  the  old  year's  born  !* 
And  the  welcoming  heavens,  all  rob'd  in  wliite, 

Shall  herald  the  news  to  the  morn. 

Old  Arcturus  smiles  from  his  azure  throne, 

And  pledges  a  peaceful  reign ; 
And  Orion,  begirt  with  his  starry  zone, 

Leads  on  in  the  royal  train. 

O'er  a  waking  world,  at  the  opening  day, 
Loud  shouts  from  the  million  ring  ; 

As  the  day-god  rolls  on  his  cloudless  way, 
And  the  birds  of  song  take  wing. 

Young  Hope  sits  thron'd  on  the  brow  of  youth, 
And  kindles  its  sparkling  eye  j 


*  At  midnight. 


160  A  CLUSTER   OF  POEMS. 

And  Piety  girdles  her  loins  with  truth, 
To  strike  for  her  crown  on  high. 

E'en  the  widow  is  flush'd  with  a  transient  joy, 
By  the  blaze  of  her  warm  hearthstone, 

As  she  hugs  to  her  bosom  her  orphan'd  boy, 
Nor  would  forfeit  his  love  for  a  throne. 

Now  the  world's  busy  thousands  to  new  toils  spring, 

With  a  bounding,  conquering  zeal, 
While  cities  resound  with  the  whirl  and  ring 

Of  the  spindle,  the  hammer,  and  wheel. 

Then  why  should  our  Zion  deplore  the  past, 

Or  boast  of  her  triumphs  won  ? 
Let  her  warn  the  world  with  a  trumpet  blast, 

And  shout  when  her  work  is  done! 

The  nations  are  rous'd  to  the  claims  of  God- 
All  Christendom  lends  her  aid  ; 

The  harvests  are  white,  and  the  fields  now  nod 
To  the  stroke  of  the  reaper's  blade. 

The  smoke  and  the  storm  that  with  thunder-tone, 
Overs  wept  our  battalions  slain, 


FAREWELL  AND  GREETING.  161 

Are  the  clouds  and  darkness  that  shroud  Histhroue, 
But  to  blazon  His  wider  reign. 

Though  a  continent  rock  under  bursting  bombs, 

And  millions  of  missiles  fly, 
As  legions,  led  on  by  the  roll  of  drums, 

Are  hurrying  on  to  die, 

Still  glory's  ahead  of  this  dark  campaign, 

And  Emmanuel's  empire's  nigh ; 
For  a  grander  nation  shall  grace  His  train, 

And  shine  in  the  bright'uing  sky. 

When  the  sun  shall  have  near'd  the  burning  line, 

To  light  up  the  earth  and  heaven, 
The  war-god's  spear  shall  have  ceased  to  shine 

On  the  fields  where  the  brave  have  striven. 

Ere  the  peach  shall  have  blush'd  in  an  August  sun, 
Or  the  vintage  have  grac'd  the  vine, 

Our  Union  shall  tow'r  over  Goth  and  Hun, 
Lake  a  giant  refresh'd  with  wine. 

Then  away,  away  on  this  bright  New  Year, 
With  the  shout  and  the  song  of  love ! 


162  A   CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

Fill  the  courts  of  God  with  the  boundless  cheer, 
Till  it  blends  with  the  hymns  above  ! 

And  oh!  when  December's  last  lone  star 
Shall  have  pal'd  in  the  light  of  the  morn, 

May  the  new-crown V?  Year,  from  his  blazing  throne, 
Shed  a  splendor  on  hosts  unborn  ! 


THE  WIFE  AND  MOTHER.  163 


Dedicated  to  the  memory  of  MRS.  CALLIE  L.  SMITH,  consort  of 
REV.  L.  M.  SMITH,  D.  D.,  President  of  the  Southern  Uni 
versity,  Greensborough,  Ala. 

THERE  is  death  in  the  air,  and  there's  gloom  in  the 

heart, 

When  husband  and  consort  are  destin'd  to  part  j 
When  loveliness  lies  on  the  verge  of  the  grave, 
A  household  in  tears,  and  no  power  to  save. 

But,  dear  Rev'rend  Brother,  standfast,  and  rely  ! 
There  is  peace  in  her  heart,  and  there's  heav'n  in  her 

eye. 

Her  wings  are  outspread — she  must  leave  thee  alone : 
A  few  panting  breaths,  and  the  angel  is  gone  ! 
***** 

There's  rejoicing  above,  in  the  realms  of  the  blest, 
As  their  millions  look  out  for  the  new  wedding-guest  j 
For  glory  awaits  her,  Mount  Zion's  in  sight, 
And  her  wide,  golden  gateway  is  flooded  with  light. 

She  stands  on  its  threshold — then  flies  to  embrace 
Her  glorified  Lord,  who  has  sav'd  her  by  grace — 


164  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

Then  rises  to  visions  and  raptures  untold, 
As  eternity's  glories  begin  to  unfold. 

Farewell,  then,  dear  Callie !  now  sainted  and  seal'd, 
For  the  heav'n  of  thy  faith  is  in  splendor  reveal'd  ; 
We  must  weep  o'er  thy  dust,  and  lament  for  our  loss, 
But  shall  trust  for  re-union  through  Christ  and  His 
cross. 

The  bedroom  is  empty,  the  parlor's  in  gloom, 
But  thy  virtues  have  left  there  a  long,  rich  perfume. 
A  mother's  sweet  voice,  and  the  smile  of  a  ^vife, 
Thy  children  and  husband  shall  cherish  through  life. 

Community  mourns  o'er  the  breach  in  its  ranks, 
And  the  churches  unite  in  hosannas  and  thanks, 
That  God  fills  the  chamber  whence  saints  take  their 

flight, 
With  faith,  love  and  joy,  as  they're  borne  from  our 

sight. 

Hail,  hail,  then,  the  scene  that  advancingly  looms, 
Where  the  "lov'd  and  the  lost"  are  new-born  from 
their  tombs  j 


THE  WIFE  AND  MOTHER. 


Where  the  Lord's  ransom'd  hosts  roll  their  songs 

through  the  skies, 
And  the  GREAT  EVERLASTING  pours  bliss  from  His 

eyes  ! 

Rapt  myriads  stand  round  the  "Ancient  of  Days? 
And  the  universe  rings  with  their  anthems  of  praise. 
How  boundless  the  pageant  !  how  endless  the  strain, 
When  the  LORD  OF  REDEMPTION  is  scepter'd  to 
reign  ! 

Oh  bear  us  aloft,  blessed  Spirit  of  Love, 

Through  the  gloom  of  the  grave  to  our   mansions 

above, 

Where  the  saints  of  all  ages,  the  purchase  of  blood, 
Shall  welcome  us  home  to  the  bosom  of  God. 


166  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


OH  why  dost  thou  lodge  in  the  house  of  the  stranger? 

And  why  far  remov'd  from  thy  innocent  joys  ? 
Oh  why  dost  thou  roarn  over  regions  of  danger, 

Where  fell  inarsh  miasrna  its  thousands  destroys  I 

Forgive,  oh  forgive  me  !  no  longer  I  wonder ; 

I  see  in  thy  husband  a  herald  of  God, 
From  Zion  proclaiming,  in  language  of  thunder, 

The  curse  and  the  cure  through  Immaniiel's  blood. 

Go,  go  then,  my  sister,  and  warmest  affections 
Shall  welcome  thee  on  in  thy  mission  of  love  j 

Go  comfort  and  cheer  him,  and  share  that  protection 
So  solemnly  pledg'd  from  thy  Father  above. 

Thus  harmless  the  changes  of  life  shall  roll  round 
thee, 

So  long  as  thou  lovcst  like  beautiful  Euth ; 
Not  the  fearful  alarum  of  death  shall  confound  thee, 

For  peace  crowns  the  faithful  that  die  for  the  truth. 


AN  INFANT'S  FLIGHT.  167 


CHILD   OF   HON.  T.   M.    AND   MRS.   ANNA   NORWOOD,  OF 
SAVANNAH,  GA. 

Go,  sweet  spirit,  infant  stranger, 
Join  the  cherub  throng  on  high  ; 

Fly  this  world  of  doubt  and  danger — 
From  its  tears  and  terrors  fly. 

Angel  forms  approach  to  meet  thee  j 

Soft  they  kiss  thy  life  away  ; 
Heaven's  redeeni'd  in  rapture  greet  thee 

Welcome  to  eternal  day. 

Doting  mother,  cheerless  bending 
O'er  that  blasted,  breathless  frame, 

Upward  gaze — thy  babe's  ascending ! 
All  that's  left  the  grave  may  claim. 

Faith  recalls  the  melting  story 

Of  the  Sou's  vicarious  blood  ; 
Points  to  chariots  bound  for  glory, 

Lights  dear  "  Manson"  home  to  God. 


168  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


ADDRESSED     TO   MISS   ISABELLA.    HAYES,   NOW    MRS.   S.   THOMAS, 
ATHENS,   GEORGIA.* 

OH  say,  dost  thou  see,  o'er  the  dark  purple  wing 
Of  the  far-distant  storm-cloud,  the  rainbow  of  peace ; 

As,  gorgeously  rob'd  in  the  sunlight  of  spring, 
It  smiles  on  the  world  till  the  show'r-drops  cease  ? 

Brighter  far,  Isabella,  the  radiance  that  beams 

From  the  soft  soul  of  beauty,  ilium? d  from  on  high. 

With  a  luster  undying,  its  mellow  light  streams 
O'er  the  storm-beaten  pathway  that  leads  to  the  sky. 

No  gloom  shrouds  its  splendor,  no  years  dim  its  rays, 
Life's  toils  and  misfortunes  are  lost  in  its  blaze ; 

It  burns  high  and  holy,  through  death's  angry  flood, 
Then  shines  on  forever  with  angels  and  God. 

Great  Sun  of  the  universe !    Light  of  the  spheres ! 

Grand  luminous  center  of  matter  and  mind ! 
Thus  lovely  and  pure,  when  Messiah  appears, 

May  my  friend  of  the  Album  her  paradise  find ! 


•Written  in  Misa  H.'s  Album. 


BALMY  MA  Y.  169 


'Tis  an  hour  of  sweetness  in  balmy  May, 
When  swallows  are  out  on  the  wing ; 

They  twitter  in  joy  as  they  skim  away, 
To  welcome  the  opening  spring. 

The  jay-bird,  clad  in  her  tunic  of  blue, 
Pipes  clear  on  the  passing  breeze  j 

In  his  crimson  robe  flaunts  the  red-bird  too, 
As  he  sings  to  the  listening  trees. 

The  leaping  lambkins,  hi  sportive  mood, 

Are  curveting  round  their  dam, 
Or  daintily  cropping  their  verdant  food 

By  the  side  of  the  lordly  ram. 

From  the  dimpling  stream,  in  its  winding  flow, 
Where  the  sauntering  herd  now  graze, 

The  silvery  perch,  from  their  beds  below, 
Leap  up  to  their  Maker's  praise. 

The  mellowing  showers  from  genial  skies 
Have  freshen'd  the  lawn  and  field  j 

The  landscape  blooms  in  a  thousand  dyes, 
And  foretokens  the  harvest  yield. 
8 


170  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

All  nature's  alive  with  the  thrill  arid  flush 

Of  a  new-born,  bounding  life ; 
Sweet  strains  from  her  grand  orchestra  gush, 

And  the  tumult  of  joy  is  rife. 

The  earth,  with  its  blendings  of  light  and  shade, 
Now  glows  with  the  smile  of  God, 

Adumbrating  scenes  of  a  nobler  grade, 
In  the  fields  beyond  the  flood. 

Surely  heaven  has  more  than  earth  can  boast, 

For  our  longing,  bounding  souls ! 
For  Nature,  with  all  her  starry  host, 

No  wounded  heart  consoles. 

O  Mighty  Creator !  these  gifts  of  grace — 

Mere  drops  of  exhaustless  love — 
Are  shower'd  abroad  on  a  thankless  race, 

To  win  them  to  thrones  above ! 

Oh  yes !  there  are  glories  beyond  this  goal, 

Surcharged  with  the  love  of  God  ! 
Then  soar  on  the  wings  of  faith,  my  soul ; 

They  are  thine,  through  atoning  blood ! 


THE  SEAR  LEAF.  \~,\ 


DEDICATED  TO  THE  HON.  JOHN  P.  KING,  OF  AUGUSTA,  GA. 

DEAR  generous  friend  of  the  auld  lang  syne, 

Our  decades  are  hast'uiug  away ; 
But  the  joys  of  the  past,  still  lingering,  shine 

Like  the  sun  at  the  close  of  day. 

The  burden  and  heat  of  the  day  we've  borne, 

And  have  tasted  its  weal  and  woe ; 
We  have  learnt  from  the  past  to  rejoice  and  inourn, 

And  to  ponder  the  path  we  go. 

But  each  has  been  blest  round  his  own  hearthstone 

By  a  wife's  and  a  mother's  smile  ; 
Oh,  what  earthly  gift  from  the  Father's  throne 

Can  so  sweetly  the  heart  beguile  ! 

As  the  ivy  clings  to  the  old  church- wall, 

And  encircles  its  tottering  tow'r ; 
Or  mantles  with  verdure  the  antique  hall, 

To  grace  it  in  sunshine  or  show'r  j 


172  A    CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

Thus  filial  affections,  as  manhood  fades, 
To  the  ancestral  homestead  cling ; 

They  delight  to  repose  in  its  evergreen  shades, 
And  to  cherish  the  mem'ries  they  spring. 

Our  names  must  live  in  the  age  to  come, 
When  the  father  is  lost  in  the  sow, 

And  the  dutiful  heir  of  the  lonely  home 
Shall  illustrate  the  sire  that's  gone. 


Thus  the  grand  panorama  of  life  moves  on, 
But  on  earth  there  are  boons  from  heaven  j 

And  when  virtue  and  truth  have  the  victory  won, 
There's  a  crown  to  the  conqueror  given. 

There  are  triumphs  to  win  in  the  empire  of  thought- 
In  the  boundless  domains  of  the  soul — 

Unsounded  by  trumpet,  by  gold  unbought, 
And  untrac'd  upon  tablet  or  scroll. 

Let  these  stir  ambition  to  strike  for  the  skfes, 

To  conquer  corruption  and  sin ; 
And  Faith,  Hope  and  Love  shall  in  glory  arise, 

And  light  up  the  temple  within. 


THE  SEAR  LEAF.  173 


Mont  Blanc  looks  down  from  his  throne  of  rocks, 

With  his  diadem  wreath'd  of  snows  j 
On  his  sides,  deep  cleft  by  convulsive  shocks, 

There  the  "  Eose  of  the  Alps"  still  blows. 

Thus  heaven-born  greatness  sublimely  looms 

Over  passions  that  bluster  below  j 
Though  disasters  may  blight,  moral  loveliness  blooms, 

And  the  flowers  of  Paradise  grow. 

Then  roll,  ye  fleet  years,  to  eternity's  verge  I 

But  oh,  bear  us  on  to  our  rest  ; 
And  then,  at  life's  close,  let  the  funeral  dirge 

Be  exchanged  for  the  songs  of  the  blest  1 


174  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


FOB   MES.  M.  S.  KING, 

TIIE  AMIABLE  CONSORT  OP  HON.  JOHN  P.  KING,  OF  AUGUSTA,  GA. 

OH,  who  can  stay  the  rolling  spheres, 

Or  lock  Apollo's  wheel  f 
"Who,  who  arrest  the  flight  of  years, 

Or  future  life  reveal  ? 

Dear  honor'd  friend  of  other  days, 

My  heart  could  but  rejoice 
When  first  I  learnt  to  love  and  praise 

Your  noble  husband's  choice. 

A  lovely  bride  you  stood  coufess'd, 

In  beauty's  flush  and  glow  j 
No  griefs  to  rend  your  tranquil  breast, 

Some  thirty  years  ago. 

The  world  was  fresh,  and  friends  carcss'd, 
While  wealth  and  pleasure  pour'd 


FRIENDSHIP'S  MEMORIAL,  175 

Their  ample  stores  to  make  you  bless'd, 
And  crown  your  cheerful  board. 

But  oh !  the  fell  destroyer's  blade 

Has  ravag'd  unrestrain'd ; 
The  cypress  casts  its  deadly  shade 

Where  light  and  pleasure  reign'd ! 

How  many  bounding,  joyous  souls, 

That  grac'd  your  parlor  floor, 
Have  reach'd  their  dreamless,  silent  goals, 

To  smile  and  bless  no  more  ! 

The  writer,  then  in  manhood's  prime, 

With  clear  and  cloudless  eye 
Look'd  out  on  life,  while  hope  sublime 

With  rainbows  spann'd  his  sky. 


But  why  recall  "  the  lov'd  and  lost," 
The  pains  and  sorrows  past  ? 

Why  wail  our  laud  by  tempests  toss'd, 
To  swell  the  vengeful  blast  ? 

Still,  life  is  ours,  and  nature  smiles  ; 
Her  seas  and  mountains  stand  j 


176  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

Her  peaceful  rule  the  heart  beguiles, 
Aiid  gladdens  ev'ry  land. 

But  higher  still,  in  light  enthron'd, 

The  reigning  King  appears  ; 
The  Godhead  has  for  guilt  aton'd, 

And  mercy  cairns  our  fears. 

Old  age  is  nurs'd  with  heav'nly  care, 
Gray  hairs  with  glory  crowu'd  ; 

Angels  the  dying  couch  prepare, 
And  viewless  hosts  surround. 

The  good  and  pure  shall  ever  find 

New  bliss  for  joys  entoinb'd ; 
A  hallo  w'd  peace  to  soothe  the  mind, 

And  light  where  darkness  gloom'd. 

Then,  honor'd  friend,  though  childhood's  past, 

Our  youthful  luster  fled, 
And  setting  day  is  hast'ning  fast, 

There's  sunrise  just  ahead ! 

May  gracious  Heav'n  unfold  the  day 

To  all  our  raptur'd  eyes; 
And  bear  us,  with  our  friends,  away 

To  bliss  beyond  the  skies  ! 


THE  GOLDEN  GIRDLE.  177 


TIIE  girdle  is  an  indispensable  appendage  to  the  dress  of  an  orien 
tal,  and  is  employed  to  tuck  up  and  secure  the  long  flowing  vestments 
worn  in  the  East ;  thus  affording  greater  freedom  of  locomotion,  and 
at  the  same  time  bracing  and  supporting  the  waist,  the  weakest  por 
tion  of  the  body,  where  the  spinal  column  stands  alone,  without 
the  auxiliary  aid  of  any  surrounding  bony  structure.  This  girdle, 
among  persons  of  rank,  is,  even  at  the  present  day,  made  of  the  most 
costly  fabrics,  luxuriously  ornamented  with  the  precious  metals 
and  garnished  with  brilliant  dyes.  The  symbolic  representation  of 
the  "  Son  of  man,  clothed  with  a  garment  down  to  the  foot,  and  girt 
about  the  paps  with  a  golden  girdle,"  as  detailed  in  the  glowing  lan 
guage  of  the  Apocalypse,  was  probably  anti-typical  of  the  costume 
of  the  Jewish  high  priest,  and  emblematical  of  regal  as  well  as  of  sacer 
dotal  dignity.  The  golden  girdle  worn  by  that  consecrated  function 
ary  was  connected  and  probably  woven  with  the  ephod ;  the  latter 
ornament  consisting  of  "  gold,  and  blue,  and  purple,  and  scarlet,  and 
fine  twined  linen,"  and  richly  embroidered;  while  the  girdle  was 
wound  in  graceful  folds  twice  round  the  body,  crossing  the  pectoral 
or  breastplate  in  front ;  and  at  this  point  of  interj  unction  were  insert 
ed  twelve  precious  stones,  upon  each  of  which  was  engraved  the  name 
of  one  of  the  tribes  of  Israel.  As  St.  John  the  Evangelist  has  declar 
ed  that  the  saints  are  "  made  kings  and  priests  unto  God,"  the  poetical 
appropriation  which  we  have  made  of  the  "  golden  girdle,"  in  the 
few  stanzas  which  follow,  may  not,  we  trust,  be  regarded  as  alien  to 
the  divine  authority. 

8* 


178  A   CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

IN  this  dark  world,  which  bears  the  frown  of  God — 
Where  nature  heaves  beneath  His  blasting  curse, 

Where  sin  has  pour'd  its  desolating  flood, 
And  whirls  its  victims  on  to  ills  far  worse — 

Still  there's  a  hope,  that  paints  the  Christian's  sky, 
And  sheds  its  luster  on  his  trusting  soulj 

Still  there's  a,  faith,  that  lifts  its  gaze  on  high, 
And  stands  uumov'd  where  rifting  thunders  roll. 

Still  there's  a  tie — a  priceless,  golden  tie — 
That  binds  pure  spirits  to  th'  eternal  throne. 

We  foil  hell's  cunning,  and  its  strength  defy, 
When  holy  love  encircles  with  its  zone. 

Then  let  the  sickly  world  disgorge  its  hate, 
And  languid  friendship  freeze  upon  the  lip, 

Let  beggar'd  virtue  quit  the  halls  of  state, 
And  bloated  vice  her  poison'd  chalice  sip  j 

Let  time's  resistless  waves  still  murmur  on, 
And  whelm  their  millions  under  tides  of  years ; 

Let  earth,  convuls'd  with  torture,  reel  and  groan, 
And  vent  her  throes  in  hot  volcanic  tears. 


THE  GOLDEN  GIRDLE.  179 

Let  lurid  lightnings  rend  the  vault  of  heaven, 
And  howling  tempests  scourge  the  trembling  world ; 

Mad  oceans  lash  the  clouds,  by  thunders  riven, 
And  stone-girt  mountains  from  their  seats  be  hurl'd. 

Let  nature's  death-knell  ring  in  Gabriel's  blast, 
And  startled  millions  leap  from  sod  and  sea ; 

Wild  floods  of  flame  engulf  the  globe  at  last, 
And  shrieking  ghosts  in  vain  red  vengeance  flee. 

'Midst  these  astounding  scenes,  where  courage  dies, 
Where  none's  secure  but  he  whom  God  defends, 

This  golden  cincture's  known  throughout  the  skies, 
And  brings  that  succor  which  the  Godhead  lends. 

Loud  hallelujahs  leave  my  bounding  heart, 
And  sound  the  triumphs  of  redeeming  blood ; 

He  that  would  harm  me,  hence,  with  hellish  dart 
Must  rend  the  girdle,  or  DETHRONE  A  GOD  ! 


180  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


TO  VICTORIA  A.  MEANS,  SECOND  DAUGHTER  OF  THE 
AUTHOR. 

Written  when  from  home,  on  St.  Valentine's  Day. 

WILL  my  daughter,  in  years  yet  to  come, 
On  this  valentine  wistfully  gaze  ? 

Eemember  her  sweet  Oxford  home, 
And  the  scenes  of  her  happy  young  days  ? 

And  when  her  gay  childhood  is  o'er, 
And  she  blooms  in  the  ripeness  of  age, 

Let  a  tiine-honor'd/atf/ier  once  more 
Bless  his  child,  from  this  beautiful  page  ? 


A  MADRIGAL.  181 


TO  HIS  OLD  FRIEND,  DR.  H.  GAITHER, 

OF  OXFORD,  GA., 

ON  nis  PRESENTATION  OF  A  MAGNIFICENT  PEACH  TO  THE  AUTHOR. 

THANKS,  thanks  for  the  gift  of  your  "Nonpareil" 
peach, 

So  large  and  so  luscious,  so  soft  and  so  rare  j 
Were  Hesperian  gardens  at  all  within  reach, 

I'd  shrewdly  suspect  you  a  favorite  there. 

Who'd  growl  at  his  fortunes,  or  envy  renown, 
As  its  exquisite  nectar  outvied  t\&  first  kiss  ? 

What  lady  would  ruffle  her  brow  by  a  frown, 
While  her  palate  was  sated  with  sweetness  like  this  ? 

But  richer  by  far,  in  the  gardens  on  high, 
Hang  the  rich,  golden  clusters  the  world  under 
rates  ; 

A  feast  for  the  soul,  and  a  feast  for  the  eye, 
Of  the  millions  who  enter  its  gem  studded  gates. 


182  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


LINES  WRITTEN  IN  A  NEW  ALBUM, 
Presented  by  the  Author  to  Miss  ELIZABETH  LUCKIE,  of  Covington,  Qa. 

THOSE  sweet,  simple  accents  which  first  charm'd  my 

ear 

In  the  hours  of  your  childhood,  I  still  seem  to  hear ; 
But  the  laughing  blue  eyes  and  the  soft  flaxen  hair 
Of  the  light-hearted  LIZZIE,  oh,  where  are  they? — 

where  I 

Does  my  vision  deceive  ?    Sure  I  trace  in  that  face, 
In  that  mild  azure  eye,  and  that  womanly  grace, 
Her  I  rock'd  on  my  knee,  in  her  own  happy  room, 
In  her  father's  full  strength  and  her  mother's  full 
bloom. 

And  when  we  shall  close  our  returnless  career, 
And  that  sweet  smile  of  love  be  exchaug'd  for  a  tear, 
Then  remember,  dear  girl,  to  the  faithful  'tis  given, 
That  their  lost  friends  on  earth  shall  rejoin  them  in 
heaven. 


GIRLHOOD.  183 


And  as  years  roll  away,  and  the  lov'd  ones  you  knew 
Gently  pass  to  the  skies,  like  the  bright  morning  dew, 
Kindly  glance  at  this  page  in  the  still  hour  of  pray'r, 
For  a  friend  of  your  childhood  shall  meet  with  you 
there. 


184  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


(VERSES  2,  12,   13,  AND  14.) 

How  beautiful  Mount  Zion  stands, 

Confronting  Northern  skies; 
Her  sacred  heights  the  world  commands, 

And  fills  the  nations'  eyes. 

On  old  Moriah's  sunlit  wing 

Her  glorious  temple  shines  j 
There  God,  within,  her  reigning  King, 

Unfolds  His  great  designs. 

Oh,  walk  about  her  spacious  courts, 

Go  round  her  tower'd  walls ! 
Eternal  rock  their  strength  supports, 

And  grandeur  fills  her  halls. 

Mark  well  her  bulwarks'  massive  size, 

And  fix  your  thoughtful  eye 
Upon  her  palaces,  that  rise 

In  splendor  to  the  sky. 


A  POETIC  PARAPHRASE.  185 

Let  babes  be  told  of  Zion's  fame, 

Let  age  its  off  'rings  bring, 
That  children's  children  may  proclaim 

Her  everlasting  King. 

The  God  who  crowns  her  hills  with  light 

Is  ours  forever  more ; 
Till  death  He'll  guide  our  feet  aright, 

And  teach  our  souls  t'  adore. 

8** 


186 


A    CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


Lincs  suggested  on  witnessing  the  morally  sublime  scene  exhibited  in 
the  triumphant  death  of  MR.  MAXIMILIAN  W.  KENDALL,  a  student 
of  Emory  College,  Georgia,  and  the  FIRST  who  was  ever  summoned 
to  the  tomb  front  the  rolls  of  thai  Institution.  He  was  a  member 
of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  and  a  young  man  who  prom 
ised  much  to  the  Church  and  the  world. 

THE  bolt  is  sped,  and  the  whizzing  string 
Is  the  dirge  of  its  victim  sounding. 

He  falls  !  but  in  death  he  is  crown'd  a  king, 
The  foe  of  his  life  confounding. 

A  month  ago,  and  his  manly  form 
Was  seen  in  the  strength  of  beauty ; 

With  vigorous  step  and  affections  warm, 
He  inov'd  in  the  sphere  of  duty. 

Science  was  pouring  her  morning  rays, 

Foretok'niug  a  noon  of  splendor ; 
And  Eloquence  loan'd  her  witching  lays 

To  insure  the  heart's  surrender. 

How  wide  the  field  to  ambition's  view  ! 
How  alluring  the  scenes  before  him ! 


A  CLOUDLESS  CLOSE  OF  LIFE.  187 

But,  sav'cl  by  the  God  that  his  father  knew, 
He  lov'd,  and  liv'd  to  adore  Him. 

His  soul,  baptiz'd  with  the  life  of  God, 

Had  scorn'd  unholy  pleasures  ; 
The  Cross  illumiu'd  the  path  he  trod, 

And  on  high  he  stor'd  his  treasures. 

How  hallo w'd  the  scene  as  his  end  drew  nigh  I 
A  glow  from  the  Godhead  descended ; 

It  sat  on  his  lip,  and  it  fir'd  his  eye, 
As  if  heaven  and  earth  were  blended. 

Thus,  far  away  from  the  stormy  wave 

O'er  the  soul  of  the  guilty  driven, 
He  stood  on  the  verge  of  his  early  grave, 

In  the  cloudless  light  of  heaven. 

Away,  away  from  the  scene  of  death, 
Where  pray'rs  and  tears  are  pouring, 

His  spirit  mounts  up  on  the  parting  breath, 
And  ascends  to  God  adoring  ! 

He's  gone !  he's  gone !  he's  ascending  now ; 

An  immortal  choir  surround  him, 
And  a  halo  encircles  the  marble  brow, 

In  the  chamber  where  they  found  him. 


188  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


A  SUNDAY-SCHOOL  MELODY. 

OUR  banner's  imfurPd  1 

There  is  hope  for  the  world, 
And  the  foes  of  the  Cross  from  their  heights  shall 
be  hurl'd. 

Christ's  reign  has  begun, 

And  the  world  must  be  won, 
And  millions  redeem'd  ere  the  campaign  is  done. 

CHORUS— REPEATED. 

Then  triumph  and  sing 
To  our  conquering  King, 
Till  island  and  ocean  with  peans  shall  ring. 

The  bright  Morning  Star 

Is  now  seen  from  afar, 
Nor  pales  in  its  splendor  in  peace  or  in  war. 

But  the  day-beams  appear 

From  the  sun  in  its  rear, 
And  Ziou  shall  bask  in  the  blaze  of  his  sphere. 


THE  MESSIAH'S  REIGN.  189 

CHORUS — REPEATED. 

Our  churches  now  ring, 
As  our  little  ones  sing, 
And  swell  the  loud  anthem,  "  Messiah  is  King." 

Youths  flock  to  His  arms, 
Overcome  by  His  charms, 
And,  lock'd  in  His  bosom,  are  free  from  alarms. 

CHORUS — REPEATED. 

Our  fathers  may  die 
'Mid  the  holy  war-cry, 
But  the  old  flag  of  Zion  shall  still  float  on  high. 

Their  helmet  and  shield, 
To  their  children  they  yield, 
And  the  next  generation  shall  shout  on  the  field. 

CHORUS— REPEATED. 

No  longer  bow'd  down, 
Let  us  strike  for  the  crown, 
And  win  for  the  Cross  everlasting  renown. 

Through  faith  in  His  blood, 
Let  us  follow  our  God, 

In  the  paths  which  apostles  and  prophets  have 
trod. 


190  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


CHORUS — REPEATED. 

Neither  carnage  nor  blood, 
Nor  famine  nor  flood, 
Shall  cloud  the  bright  reign  of  Iinmanuel-God. 

How  blissful  the  scene, 
When  the  soul  sits  serene, 
Entranc'd  in  His  presence,  with  no  veil  between. 

CHORUS— REPEATED. 

Hallelujahs  shall  rise 
To  the  God  of  the  skies, 
As  the  Shiloh,  descending,  shall  ravish  all  eyes. 

Then  valley  and  plain, 
And  mountain  and  main, 
Shall  swell  the  grand  chorus  and  roll  on  the  strain. 

CHORUS— REPEATED. 

Then  triumph  and  sing, 
To  our  conquering  King, 
Till  island  and  ocean  with  peans  shall  ring. 


THE  MINISTER'S  FAREWELL.  191 


The  following  lines  were  written  by  request,  and  designed  for  a 
young  minister  who  was  about  to  take  leave  of  Ms  congregation, 
brethren  and  Mends,  to  enter  upon  another  field  of  labor.  They 
wore  mainly  intended,  therefore,  to  bo  used  aa  a  solo. 


How  swiftly  the  years  of  our  pilgrimage  fly, 
As  weeks,  months  and  seasons  roll  silently  by ; 
Our  days  are  soon  uumber'd,  and  death  sounds  our 

knell ; 
We  scarce  know  our  friends  till  we  bid  them  farewell. 

The  righteous  and  wicked  move  slowly  along, 
In  crowds,  to  the  tomb,  both  the  old  and  the  young; 
The  good  rise  to  heaven,  the  bad  sink  to  hell ! 
They  take,  on  life's  verge,  an  eternal  farewell. 

O  God  !  are  the  nations  all  bound  for  the  tomb  ? 
Must  the  godless  and  guilty  soon  meet  their  dread 

doom? 

Save!  save,  great  Redeemer !  oh  break  the  sad  spell! 
Forgive,  and  prepare  them  to  bid  earth  farewell. 


192  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

Farewell,  fellow  sinners !  We're  free  from  your  blood ; 
Our  message  deliver'd,  we  leave  you  with  God. 
We've  begg'd  and  persuaded,  but  cannot  compel ; 
Till  the  great  day  of  doom,  then,  we  bid  you  farewell/ 

Oh !  think  on  the  scenes  which  await  you  in  death ! 
The  cold  clammy  sweat,  and  the  quick  pan  ting  breath; 
The  winding-sheet,  coffin,  and  slow-tolling  bell — 
Tour  last,  solemn,  fearful,  eternal  farewell  I 

To  you,  fellow  Christians,  I  turn  with  delight. 
The  grave  cannot  harm  you ;  your  prospects  are  bright. 
Be  faithful  and  humble ;  temptations  repel ; 
You'll  soon  leave  the  world  with  a  smiling  farewell. 

Farewell,  then,  my  brethren  !  in  body  we  part, 
But  one  common  Saviour  unites  us  in  heart ; 
Through  grace  we  will  conquer  the  world,  flesh  and 

hell, 
And  then  bid  this  earth  a  triumphant  farewell. 

Farewell  to  its  labors !  farewell  to  its  cares ! 
Its  thousand  misfortunes,  temptations,  and  snares ! 
We'll  mount  on  faith's  pinions,  with  angels  to  dwell, 
Where  saints  never  hear  the  sad,  parting  farewell ! 


LITTLE  ONES:'          193 


NO.  I. 

A  PABODY  UPON  "  MARYLAND,  MY  MARYLAND,"  A  BOHEMIAN  AIR. 

A  SUNDAY-SCHOOL  HYMN. 

Supposed  to  be  suit?  by  the  Principal  and  Teachers,  in  concert  iuitk  the  School. 

EMMANUEL  reigns  from  shore  to  shore, 

Little  ones,  my  little  ones ; 

Little  ones,  my  little  ones ; 
And  though  our  land  be  drench'd  with  gore, 
Like  Syria's  plains  in  days  of  yore, 
His  chariot's  at  our  temple  door, 
We'll  trust  His  grace  forevermore, 

Little  ones,  my  little  ones. 

Our  Father  hears  our  warm  appeal, 

Little  ones,  my  little  ones, 
While  on  our  native  soil  we  kneel, 

Little  ones,  my  little  ones ; 
For  life  and  death,  for  woe  and  weal, 

Our  penitential  vows  we  seal, 
9 


194  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

And  trust  in  GOD,  and  not  in  steel, 
Little  ones,  my  little  ones. 

Our  spotless  banner  spurns  the  dust, 

Little  ones,  my  little  ones ; 
The  sword  we  wield  shall  never  rust — 

Little  ones,  my  little  ones ; 
Then  shun  old  Balaam's  sordid  lust, 
Learn  faithful  Joshua's  holy  trust, 
And  rise  and  reign  with  all  the  just, 

Little  ones,  my  little  ones. 

Come !  'tis  the  lovely  Sabbath  day, 

Little  ones,  my  little  ones; 
Come,  lay  your  childish  toys  away, 

Little  ones,  my  little  ones ; 
With  Mary's  spirit,  mild  as  May, 
With  Abraham's  faith  in  active  play, 
Oh,  come  to  praise,  and  come  to  pray, 

Little  ones,  my  little  ones. 

Come,  for  your  hopes  are  bright  and  strong, 

Little  ones,  my  little  ones ; 
Come,  for  your  absence  does  you  wrong, 

Little  ones,  my  little  ones ; 


"  LITTLE  ONES."  195 

Come  mingle  with  this  happy  throng, 
That  love  their  Saviour  all  day  long, 
And  swell  His  praise  with  ringing  song, 
Little  ones,  my  little  ones. 

Dear  children,  break  wild  passion's  chain, 

Little  ones,  my  little  ones ; 
The  blows  you  strike  are  not  in  vain, 

Little  ones,  my  little  ones ; 
Eejoicing  hosts  shall  join  your  train, 
And  "  heav'n,  sweet  heav'n,"  your  loud  refrain, 
Shall  millions  echo  back  again, 

Little  ones,  my  little  ones. 

With  sparkling  eyes  and  blushing  cheek, 

Little  ones,  my  little  ones  ; 
With  joyous  spirits,  pure  and  meek, 

Little  ones,  my  little  ones, 
Our  song  shall  rise  from  week  to  week, 
From  hill  to  hill,  from  creek  to  creek, 
From  southern  shore  to  mountain  peak, 

Little  ones,  my  little  ones. 

And  when  the  Sabbath  bell  shall  toll, 
Little  ones,  my  little  ones, 


196  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

No  idler  shall  our  steps  control, 
Little  ones,  my  little  ones. 
Should  fire  and  flood  their  fury  roll, 
And  battle  rage  from  pole  to  pole, 
We'll  worship  God,  and  save  the  soul, 
Little  ones,  my  little  ones. 

Hark !  hark !  how  sweet  this  infant  hum, 
Little  ones,  my  little  ones; 

More  thrilling  far  than  fife  or  drum, 
Little  ones,  my  little  ones ; 

'Twould  stir  the  souls  of  deaf  and  dumb. 

We're  marching  to  our  heavn'ly  homo : — 

Hail !  angels,  hail !  we  come,  we  come, 
With  little  ones,  our  little  onesl 


"  SUNDA  y-SCJ/OOL."  197 


No.n. 

ADAPTED  TO  THE  AIR  OF  THE  PRECEDING  HYMN,  NO.  I. 


SUNG  BY  PRINCIPAL   AND   TEACHERS. 

THE  Sabbath  bell  has  sweetly  toll'd 

For  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school  ; 

The  little  lambs  are  in  the  fold, 

At  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school. 

Their  humble  names  are  all  enroll'd 

In  lines  of  richer  tint  than  gold  ; 

Their  shepherd's  eye  they  here  behold, 
At  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-schooL 

SUNOr  BY  THE  PUPILS. 

Thrice  welcome,  then,  this  lovely  day, 

For  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school  ; 

How  bright  the  scenes  we  here  survey, 
At  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school. 

Six  days  are  past  in  work  and  play, 

Since  last  we  met  to  praise  and  pray  ; 


198  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

Oh !  who'll  consent  to  stay  away 

From  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school  ? 

The  godless  world  ne'er  thinks  nor  cares 

For  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school ; 
It  cannot  vend  its  tempting  wares 

At  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school ; 
But  many  a  child,  that  rudely  dares 
To  touch  its  bribes  and  risk  its  snares, 
Is  lost,  for  want  of  weekly  prayers 

At  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school. 

But,  shelter'd  here,  we'll  gladly  stay 

At  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school, 

Within  our  little  land-lock'd  bay, 

In  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school. 

The  ocean  waves  may  wildly  play, 

Lash'd  on  by  tempests,  night  and  day ; 

We're  safe  from  danger,  far  away 

At  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school. 

Our  teachers  dear,  whose  guidance  wise, 
At  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school, 

Has  train'd  these  lambkins  for  the  skies, 
In  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school, 


"  SUNDA  Y-SCHOOL"  199 

In  death  must  shortly  close  their  eyes, 
And  at  the  resurrection  rise, 
To  join  us  in  immortal  ties, 

From  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school. 

Our  fathers  soon  shall  meet  no  more 

At  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school  j 
Their  holy  counsels  soon  be  o'er 

At  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school ; 
I  hear  the  distant  Jordan  roar, 
As  fast  they  near  its  sounding  shore— 
We'll  soon,  with  tears,  their  loss  deplore, 
From  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school. 

SUNG  BY  TEACHERS  AND  PUPILS,   STANDING. 

Then,  children,  let  us  rise  and  sing, 

At  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school  j 

Our  richest  off 'rings  let  us  bring 

To  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school  j 

Our  spirits  now  are  on  the  wing, 

We're  mounting  to  our  Shepherd  King, 

Where  hallelujahs  long  shall  ring, 

From  Sunday-school,  our  Sunday-school. 


200  A  CLUSTER    OF  POEMS. 


A   CAMP-MEETING  HYMN. 
ESPECIALLY  DESIGNED  FOR  THE  YOUNG  OF  THE  LOVELIER 

SEX. 

WRITTEN   DURING    THE    LATE    DISASTROUS    WAR. 

DEAR  YOUTH,  in  the  glory  of  life's  happy  morning, 
The  world  blooming  bright  in  your  innocent  eyes, 

When  the  rainbow  of  hope  is  your  heavens  adorning, 
Embrace  your  Bedeemer,  and  live  for  tlie  skies. 

For  soon  the  horizon  may  darken  before  you, 
Disease  may  assail  and  temptations  surprise, 

While  the  wretch  may  deceive  who  has  sworn  to  adore 

you— 
Then  cling  to  the  Cross,  and  still  live  for  the  sides. 

The  dear,  sainted  mother,  that  kiss'd  and  caress'd  you, 
Has  gone  to  her  rest,  where  the  soul  never  dies. 

How  lonely  the  home  where  she  counsel'd  and  bless'd 

you! 
Then  hallow  her  inem'ry,  and  live  for  the  skies. 


A  CAMP-MEETING  HYMN.  201 

That  chivalrous  father,  whose  arms  now  enfold  you, 
May  sink  on  the  field,  amid  loud  battle-cries, 

And  sleep  far  away,  never  more  to  behold  you — 
Then  lean  on  the  Saviour,  and  live  for  the  skies. 

While  o'er  our  encampment  bright  angels  are  bending, 
With  palms  in  their  hands  and  with  love  in  their 
eyes, 

And  the  grace  of  salvation's  from  heaven  descending, 
Oh,  kneel  at  these  altars,  and  live  for  the  skies  1 

Oh,  strike  for  a  region  that's  free  from  illusion, 
Where  hearts  never  throb  and  where  bliss  never 
flies  j 

Where  the  waters  of  life  flow  in  sparkling  profusion, 
And  man  lives  forever  with  God,  m  the  sJcies  I 


9* 


202  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


THE  sound  of  the  gospel  is  passing  away — 

The  days  of  probation  are  ending  ; 
Oh,  who  will  return  to  the  Saviour  to-day, 

While  the  prayers  of  His  saints  are  ascending  ? 

The  sound  of  the  gospel  is  passing  away, 

Long,  long  has  it  linger'd  around  us ; 
How  sweetly  in  childhood  it  taught  us  to  pray ! 

But,  alas !  we  are  still  where  it  found  us. 

The  sound  of  the  gospel  is  passing  away, 
That  rose  on  the  wings  of  the  morning, 

When  the  dear,  dying  sire,  call'd  his  offspring  to  pray, 
And  bequeath'd  them  his  last  solemn  warning. 

The  sound  of  the  gospel  is  passing  away — 

It  rolls  over  island  and  ocean ; 
The  Kaffir  and  Hindoo  are  learning  to  pray, 

And  bow  in  their  souls'  deep  devotion. 


WHA  T  THEN  f  203 


The  sound  of  the  gospel  is  passing  away — 

It  flies  on  the  four  winds  of  heaven  j 
Creation  now  dawns  with  millennial  day, 

And  the  world's  final  warning  is  given. 

The  sound  of  the  gospel  is  passing  away, 

The  offers  of  mercy  are  closing  ; 
Ten  thousands  are  gone  who've  refus'd  to  obey, 

And  are  now  under  tombstones  reposing. 

The  sound  of  the  gospel  is  passing  away — 
Soon,  soon  shall  the  great  work  be  over, 

And  the  grave  hold  its  dead  till  the  last  burning  day 
Shall  the  doom  of  creation  discover. 

The  sound  of  the  gospel  is  passing  away — 
O  God  !  ring  its  last  notes  in  thunder ! 

Let  peal  after  peal  rouse  the  sinner  to-day, 
To  fly  from  the  wrath  he  is  under. 

The  sound  of  the  gospel  is  passing  away, 
And  bearing  the  saints  to  their  glory ; 

Hail,  mighty  Eedeemer!    Oh,  when  shall  thy  sway 
Bring  the  millions  of  earth  to  adore  Thee  ? 


204  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

The  sound  of  the  gospel  is  passing  away, 
The  skies  with  the  Godhead  are  bending  ! 

Oh,  shout,  ye  redeein'd,  for  the  darkness  is  day, 
And  the  glorified  hosts  are  ascending  ! 


SPARKLING  BEAUTY.  205 


TO  MISS  TELLULAH  Y  *  *  *  * . 

THE  cascade  that  leaps  from  the  mountain, 
And  echoes  your  beautiful  name;  * 

As  it  winds  far  away  from  its  fountain, 
Soon  forfeits  its  title  to  fame. 

So  beauty  and  youth  in  high  places, 

That  noisily  flash  on  the  eye, 
Lose  the  charm  of  young  life,  and  its  graces, 

When  age  robs  the  cheek  of  its  dye. 


*  See  Appendix  D. 


206  A    CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


TO  THE  AUTHOR'S  ELDEST  DAUGHTER,  MARY  E.  P.  MEANS- 
DEAR  MARY,  remember  your  father's  affection, 

Wlio  smil'd  o'er  your  cradle  and  silenc'd  your  fears  ; 
Who  threw  round  your  childhood  his  grateful  protec 
tion, 

And  gave  you  to  God  amid  prayers  and  tears. 

And  when  with  the  burden  of  years  he  is  bending, 
Or  messenger  angels  have  borne  him  above, 

Oh  then,  my  dear  child,  while  a  tear-drop's  descend 
ing, 
Let  this  little  valentine  whisper  his  love ! 


THE  WEDDING  RING.  207 


?f?lfr       ^W^?t^l"ttt)t       '•jPrlttTflt 
4j(-v      -st^-VV  V*!>j4_w}     rV-J  ?  "H* 

TO   MRS.   DK.   JAMES   N.    SIMMONS,   ATLANTA,  GA. 

AWAY,  away  on  your  bright  career, 
For  the  wedding-ring  has  found  you 

Away,  amid  smiles  and  bridal  cheer, 
With  the  arms  of  love  around  you. 

Now  enter  the  checkered  scenes  of  life, 
Where  the  smile  and  tear  are  blending ; 

Heaven's  richest  boon  is  a  lovely  icifc, 
Whether  weal  or  woe's  depending. 

Then  live,  dear  Lizzy,  to  bless  your  home ! 

'Tis  the  noblest  boon  of  beauty ; 
Let  affection  grave  on  your  houor'd  tomb — 

"SJie  knew,  and  she  did  her  duty? 


20d  A  CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 


A  TWELVEMONTH  more  has  roll'd  around 
Since  we  were  on  this  tented  ground ; 
Ten  thousand  scenes  have  mark'd  the  year 
Since  we  last  met  to  worship  here. 

Eelentless  Death  has  hurPd  his  darts, 
And  lodg'd  them  deep  in  noblest  hearts  j 
O'er  old  and  young,  in  ev'ry  sphere, 
He's  triumph'd  since  we  worshiped  here. 

But  we  are  spar'd  !    To  HeaVn  be  praise  ! 
Our  God  has  lengthen'd  out  our  days ; 
We've  left  our  homes  with  hearts  sincere, 
And  met  once  more  to  worship  here. 

Ye  hosts  of  Israel,  lowly  bend, 
And  let  your  hearts  in  pray'r  ascend  j 
That  Heav'n  may  lend  a  listening  ear, 
And  answer  while  we  worship  here. 


.**- 


CAMP-MEETING  SONG.  209 

Return,  ye  wand'ring  souls,  to  God  j 
He  claims  the  purchase  of  His  blood. 
Oh,  loathe  your  sins,  to  Christ  draw  near, 
And  seek  Him  while  we  worship  here. 

Dear  mourners,  raise  your  tearful  eyes ; 
Look  heavenward,  and  behold  the  prize  ! 
Your  Saviour  smiles ;  renounce  your  fear, 
And  trust  Him  while  we  worship  here. 

Gird  all  the  Christian  armor  on, 
And  nobly  strike  till  vict'ry's  won ; 
Our  God  shall  guard  the  front  and  rear 
Of  all  who  humbly  worship  here. 

The  battle's  strife  will  soon  be  o'er, 
And  war-worn  vet'rans  toil  no  more ; 
On  Zion's  heights  we'll  soon  appear, 
And  no  more  meet  to  worship  here. 

The  sinner's  Friend  we'll  then  adore, 
Where  tents  are  pitch'd  to  strike  no  more  ; 
A  glorious  heav'n  with  angels  share, 
And  live,  and  love,  and  worship  tliere. 

9* 


210  A    CLUSTER   OF  POEMS. 


AN   EPITHALAMIUM. 

Gratefully  celebrated  on  the  return  of  the  Fiftieth  Anniversary 
of  the  tvcdding-day  of  the  author  and  the  partner  of  his 
earthly  fortunes,  formerly  Miss  S.  A.  E.  WINSTON — Decem 
ber  25,  1877. 

THE  nuptial  lamp  is  lighted  now, 

The  Christmas  fagot  burns ; 
The  night  of  fifty  years  ago 

In  memory  returns ; 

When  bright  and  strong  the  writer  stood, 

In  manhood's  early  spring, 
And  blooming  beauty  by  his  side 

First  wore  the  wedding-ring. 

But  oh !  the  change,  the  mystic  change, 

Along  the  line  of  years  ! 
Ten  thousand  griefs  come  trooping  up, 

To  melt  his  eyes  to  tears. 


THE  GOLDEN  WEDDING.  211 

The  youth,  transformed,  is  now  a  sage, 

His  raven  locks  are  gray  j 
And  vig'rous  manhood,  worn  with  toils, 

Shows  signs  of  sad  decay. 

His  blushing  bride  now  stoops  with  age, 

The  rose  to  ashes  turn'd ; 
She  bows  to  Heav'n,  but,  weeping  still, 

Her  "  lov'd  and  lost "  are  mourn'd. 

Departed  joys  hi  ghostly  forms 

Come  welling  up  to  view, 
Till  present  blessings  urge  then?  claims, 

And  spring  her  faith  anew. 

Though  half  an  hundred  years  have  gone, 

Our  grateful  hearts  adore 
That  Love  whose  countless  mercies  past 

Inspires  our  trust  for  more. 

Still  life,  sweet  life,  is  ours  tf  enjoy, 

With  bright*  ning  hopes  of  bliss, 
And  children's  children  crowd  to  share 

The  Golden  Wedding  kiss. 


212  A    CLUSTER  OF  POEMS. 

But  some  are  gone !    Their  angel  forms 
Now  range  th'  Elysian  fields, 

Enrob'd  with  white  and  crown'd  with  stars, 
Which  heav'u,  exhaustless,  yields. 

Dear  sainted  four  !  in  bliss  live  onj 

We  ask  not  your  return ; 
But  oh !  to  meet  your  presence  there 

Our  raptur'd  spirits  burn. 

Dear,  faithful  sons  and  daughters  still 
Surround  the  old  hearthstone, 

And  smiling  friends  their  presence  give 
To  cheer  the  pilgrims  on. 

O  Father !  long  vouchsafe  Thy  gifts ! 

Make  bright  our  evening  skies  1 
Help  us  to  close  a  faithful  life, 

Then  heavenward  bid  us  rise ! 

Then,  then  farewell,  a  long  farewell 

To  sorrow,  sighs  and  tears ; 
Emmanuel's  smile  is  glory  gain'd, 

Unquench'd  by  floods  of  years. 


THE   GOLDEN  WEDDING.  213 

Our  Golden  Wedding's  festal  night 

Shall  ne'er  on  earth  return ; 
But  heaven  to  happier  scenes  invites, 

Where  souls  shall  never  mourn. 

There,  in  the  cloudless  realms  above, 

Shall  richer  feast  be  given — 
"  The  Marriage  Supper  of  the  Lamb  " — 

Its  guests,  the  saints  of  heaven. 

We  come,  O  Lord,  by  grace  we  come, 

Eternity  to  spend, 
And  celebrate  that  feast  of  love 

Whose  sweets  shall  never  end  1 


APPENDIX  A — PAGE  12. 

THE  junction  of  the  Arve  with  the  Rhone  furnishes  a  romantic 
and  picturesque  scene.  The  Arve  is  a  furious  torrent,  born  from 
the  sides  of  the  towering  Col  de  Balme,  and  fed  by  the  melt 
ing  snows  and  ice  of  that  majestic  mountain.  By  its  rush  and 
abrasions  down  the  steeps  of  those  wild  regions,  it  rapidly  ac 
cumulates  detritus,  which,  mingling  with  its  frothy  and  foaming 
current,  gives  it  the  appearance  of  a  river  of  creamy  mud.  At 
their  point  of  junction,  the  impetuous  Arve  drives  the  pellucid 
waters  of  the  Rhone  to  one  side,  and  they  refuse,  for  some  time, 
to  commix  with  the  turbid  flood ;  but  are  ultimately  overcome, 
lose  their  transparency,  and  disembogue  their  common  sedi 
mentary  mass  into  the  bosom  of  the  placid  lake :  a  beautiful 
illustration  of  the  contaminating  and  depraving  influence  of 
confirmed  vice  over  unsuspecting  and  unguarded  virtue,  with 
which  it  may  bo  thrown  in  contact. 


APPENDIX  B — PAGE  12. 

WHEN  on  a  visit,  some  years  since,  to  the  beautiful  suburban 
residence  of  the  ecclesiastical  historian,  Dr.  Merle  D'Aubigne, 
situated  directly  upon  the  margin  of  the  lake,  that  distiugiiish- 
ed  divine  and  scholar  said  to  the  author,  that  he  supposed  the 
azure  hue  of  the  water  was  but  a  reflection  of  the  blue  color 
of  the  overhanging  skies.  Now  this  solution  seems  altogether 
unsatisfactory ;  first,  because  it  should  not  retain  its  hue  when 


APPENDIX.  215 

the  heavens  are  overcast  with  clouds — whereas  that  circum 
stance  effects  no  change  in  its  color.  Second  :  the  skies  in  Italy 
are  quite  as  blue  as  those  over  Switzerland,  and  no  such  signal 
phenomenon  is  there  noted.  The  writer  therefore  must  seek 
another  explanation,  and  attributes  the  color  of  the  lake  to  the, 
presence  of  iodine,  brought  down  by  its  tributary  streams  from 
the  iodiferous  regions  of  the  Alps,  and  chemically  combining  with 
fecula,  or  starch — a  proximate  principle  common  to  nearly  all 
vegetables,  and  found  especially  in  their  roots  and  tubers,  and 
which  the  same  regions  abundantly  supply.  The  starch,  when 
in  contact  with  the  iodine — both  being  held  in  solution — strikes 
the  characteristic  blue  tint,  so  well  known  to  chemists,  and  so 
finely  represented  in  the  waters  of  Geneva. 


APPENDIX  C — PAGE  24 

THE  STONE  MOUNTAIN  is  a  huge  and  almost  anomalous  pro 
jection  of  solid  Syenitic  Granite,  shooting  up  in  solitary  grandeur 
from  an  extensive  outcrop  of  the  granitic  stratum  which  extends 
from  New  England  through  New  Jersey,  Maryland,  Virginia 
North  and  South  Carolina,  and  Georgia,  terminating  near  the 
Tonibigbee  River,  in  Alabama.  Its  base  approaches  within  one 
half  mile  of  the  Georgia  Railroad,  and  is  seven  miles  in  circuit. 
Tts  elevation  has  been  reported  by  Mr.  George  White,  in  his 
"  Statistics  of  Georgia,"  at  2,226  feet  above  the  small  creek  which 
runs  near  its  base.  It  is  inaccessible  on  all  sides  save  one. 
The  northern  exposure  presents  an  almost  unbroken  mural 
precipice  of  perhaps  1,000  feet  in  height.  Altogether,  it  strikes 
the  eye  of  the  traveler  as  a  grand,  solemn,  naked,  and  unique 
geological  monstrosity,  which  has  arrested  the  gaze  and  com 
manded  the  attention  of  admiring  thousands — standing,  as  it 
does,  in  the  midst  of  widespread  and  luxuriant  forests  and 
cultivated  fields,  and  forty  miles  remote  from  the  Kenesaw 
Mountain,  the  nearest  considerable  elevation,  and  one  of  the 
spurs  of  the  Alleghany  range. 


216  APPENDIX. 


APPENDIX  D— PAGE  205. 

The  Kapids  or  Falls  of  Tellulah,  so  called  by  the  Indians, 
are  situated  on  the  river  of  that  name,  within  twelve  miles  of 
Clarksville,  Habersham  County,  Ga.,  and  may  bo  properly 
ranked  among  the  greatest  natural  curiosities  of  the  United 
States.  We  furnish  a  brief  sketch  of  this  magnificent  waterfall, 
by  making  a  few  "  excerpta  "  from  the  published  report  of  an 
intelligent  friend  who  visited  the  spot  and  witnessed  the 
scenery. 

"  The  river,"  says  the  writer,  "  passes  through  a  range  or 
ridge  of  mountains  for  more  than  a  mile,  forming  for  its  bed 
an  awful  gulf,  and  for  its  banks  stupendous  fronts  of  solid 
rock,  like  those  of  Niagara  just  below  its  great  cataract,  and 
of  the  Genesee  river  below  the  fall  in  that  stream,  a  few  miles 
above  Lake  Ontario.  The  height  of  the  banks  varies  from  200  to 
500  feet  perpendicular.  There  are  four  perpendicular  pitches 
of  water,  from  50  to  80  feet  each,  besides  a  great  many  small 
cataracts  or  cascades  of  from  10  to  20  feet  in  fall.  The  entire 
plunge,  therefore,  may  be  estimated  at  about  300  feet.  The 
river,  however,  varies  from  15  to  100  feet  in  width.  These 
cliffs,  combined  with  the  foaming,  roaring,  bounding,  impetu 
ous  current  of  water,  exhibit  novelty,  beauty,  and  grandeur  in 
the  highest  degree.  This  majestic  scene  lies  in  a  wild,  unculti 
vated  and  sterile  region,  on  which  the  hand  of  Art  has  never 
laid  its  transforming  touch,  to  soften  or  degrade,  although  now 
surrounded  by  an  intelligent  and  thriving  population." 

After  the  sublime  exhibition,  thus  imperfectly  described,  Tel- 
lulah's  fame  ia  gone,  and  the  little  river  unites  with  its  sister 
stream,  the  Chattoogo,  from  the  north-east,  and  loses  its  name 
and  its  honors  in  their  joint  successor,  the  Tugaloo,  together 
constituting  the  head  waters  of  the  beautiful  Savannah, 
which,  after  a  course  of  about  250  miles,  disembogues  in  the 
Atlantic  Ocean  18  miles  below  the  "  Forest  City." 


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